Brittany the Vampire Slayer
by Dylan S. Thompson
Summary: Exactly what it says on the tin:  Re-imagining of the Buffyverse starring Brittany in the lead role and Santana as her souled vamp.
1. Brittany the Vampire Slayer

A/N: This fic is inspired by this epic, epic prompt from the early days of the Glee kink meme:

"_Brittany/Santana, Kurt/Puck, Finn/Rachel_

_...I'm almost ashamed to say it, but damn it, I want Brittany the Vampire Slayer, with Kurt and Rachel as her Willow and Xander (except less get-alongy), and souled!vamp!Santana. If you make Puck a vampire also I will not be unhappy; if he's not a vampire, then having him (and maybe also Finn) get saved from vampires by Brittany, Kurt, and Rachel would be so much win._

_And can I please have it as coming from the canon into this twisted world? Like it's normal Glee, and then it turns out that the guy that takes Emma's place is actually a Watcher sent to Lima because the last slayer died (and all that Buffy stuff was just because Joss knew a Slayer, but it didn't really actually happen quite that way)._

_And lots of Brittany! The Gentlemen come to Lima? "I killed them with a duck."_

I cannot fathom how this prompt never got filled. I'm super excited about tackling this, because it combines two of my biggest loves, and I'll forever want to give the prompter a big, big hug (though I'm diverging from the prompt in pretty major ways.) The following just seemed more natural (and more fun!) to me. If the prompter ever reads this, I hope you're not too upset at the changes. Oh, and just in case you're not familiar with it, this prologue is loosely based on the original Buffy movie.

**Brittany the Vampire Slayer**

Prologue  
~

"Since the dawn of man, the vampires have walked among us – killing, feeding. The only one with the strength or skill to stop their heinous evil is the Slayer: she who bears the birthmark, the mark of the coven. Trained by the Watcher, one slayer dies and the next is chosen."

Arthos finished his speech with a flourish, and there followed a silence. The girl in front of him stared at him blankly. Arthos cleared his throat and pushed his glasses up, then let his hands fall awkwardly to his lap. If he still could he would be pacing.

Instead he was confined to a wheelchair, the parting gift of a particularly vicious vampire that his former Slayer had died putting down. Brittany finally spoke, breaking Artie's bleak reminiscences.

"So you've been like…watching me?" Brittany grinned and raised her eyebrow. "That's kinky. I've never done a dude in a wheelchair before…"

"No!" Exclaimed Arthos, cringing deeper into his chair. He blushed red at his flustered reaction, then said again, calmer, "No. Although I am only a few years older than you, our relationship must be one of authority and respect. I am your mentor, your guide, your trainer. You must listen to me with the utmost attention, and do what I say without question."

"Sounds a lot like a dad," said Brittany with a grimace. "I already have one of those, Artie."

"Ahem, it's Arthos, Ms. Pi-"

"And that one weekend at the motel I even had a Daddy," Brittany interrupted. Whatever Arthos was to say got choked off by a coughing fit. Brittany didn't notice; she bit her lip in remembrance and said, "And a Mommy. Mmm…that was a good weekend."

"Brittany!" Arthos squeaked, even more flustered. He sighed and took off his glasses, cleaning them vigorously. "If you are quite finished, perhaps we could talk about something other than kinky sex? Like the fact that I've just revealed to you the existence of demons and, especially, vampires? Hmm? What have you to say about that?"

Brittany shrugged, seemingly not fazed.

Arthos frowned. Tears, screaming, fear, projectile vomiting, fainting…these were the reactions he had been prepared for at the Watcher's Academy. Those were his expectations upon graduation, and his limited experience in the field had borne them out. He had no idea what to do with casual acceptance. He was about to interrogate further when Brittany expanded her answer.

"I guess I always kind of believed in magic and stuff, so this isn't that surprising to me. And I have superpowers now, apparently, which I've always wanted. And being a Slayer sounds a lot cooler than being a cheerleader. So…when do we start?"

2.

They began training that day at the warehouse where Arthos made his home. Brittany caught on immediately. Even before becoming the Slayer, her body had been at peak physical condition due to cheerleading, dancing, and gymnastics. With her experience leading and learning choreography, she was able to pick up complicated fighting styles and weaponry almost effortlessly. Arthos was amazed. His former Slayer had not been ready for the field for nearly three years…Brittany was ready in barely three weeks.

Brittany was lounging on the steps of her high school nearly thirty minutes after the bell had rung, chewing her gum loudly. She was waiting for Artie, who had informed her the night before that today she would slay her first vampire. She was extremely excited. The prior three weeks had been the most amazing of her entire life. She seriously dug having superpowers, and if she thought she loved dancing it was nothing compared to how much she was enjoying fighting.

A strange, tingling feeling suddenly enveloped Brittany's body. She whipped her head up and glanced around. This was what Artie had described when explaining what she should feel when sensing a vampire. She continued scanning around her, confused. It was the middle of the afternoon, not a cloud in the sky…how on earth could there be a vampire nearby?

But then she spotted a black van parked across the street under a huge, overhanging tree. In the shadows of the van and the tree lurked a petite, dark-featured woman. The lurker was staring intensely in her direction. When Brittany spotted the woman, the prickling along her skin intensified. Could this be a test arranged by Artie? Was this the vampire she was supposed to kill? Should she just run over there and stake the creature in broad daylight? Oh God, did she even have a stake with her?

She took a calming breath, and then jumped to her feet. Seeing this action, the woman across the street jerked in surprise and immediately disappeared behind the van. Brittany was just about to chase after her when a voice called out, "Brittany!"

Startled, Brittany whirled around and found Artie at the bottom of the steps waving her towards him. Confused, she glanced back across the street. The van was gone.

"Brittany, come on. There are a few things I want to go over before you begin your first patrol."

Brittany sighed and went down to him.

* * *

"She saw me!"

"Well, she does have eyes."

"Not funny, Jacob! I thought she wasn't supposed to know about me yet?"

"What does she know, Santana? She knows she saw some chick staring at her like a perv. She's probably already forgotten about you."

"She knew I was a vampire, I could tell! Why are you so calm about this? You spent an hour yesterday telling me about my secret mission of secrecy from the secret Powers that had to be secret. You said secret about fifteen hundred times, I swear."

"So she knew you're a vampire. You're the one that got away, babe. Don't worry about it."

"But-"

"Don't worry about it! We're out of here tomorrow, anyway. The Powers that Be have let me in on a little secret: her future is not in L.A. She has a lot to prepare for before you two meet up again. So do we, in fact: we gotta get you weaned off the rat-juice, set you up in some clothes that aren't borrowed from me, set up a basement apartment for you, maybe catch you up on some of the last thirty years of culture, music, movies, history, etc etc."

"I. Don't. Drink. Rat."

"Yeah, for three days and counting, partner. Congrats, by the way. One day at a time."

"You're so annoying."

"Aw, damn, are you saying don't like me? And here I thought we were going to be BFFs."

* * *

Later that night, Brittany the Vampire Slayer was finally patrolling a cemetery for vampires. Her heart raced in excitement. She was officially a working super-hero now! She couldn't help the grin the exploded on her face, nor could she help speeding up to a run and executing a flying kick. She landed and rolled into a defensive position, then scanned around her.

Nothing. She frowned. She was still excited, but growing less so every second. She had been out for nearly an hour with not even the slightest hint of the supernatural. And now she had to entertain herself with fake kicks. Hmph.

She rolled her eyes and stood up, choosing a new direction and starting off again. She hummed and sang to herself to keep entertained, every once in awhile executing a combat or dance move. After a few minutes, the tingling sensation she had felt earlier suddenly returned. Vampire! She stopped dead in her tracks, glancing around furtively.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw again the woman from outside her school. She tightened her grip on the stake in her hand, but began singing and humming again. She started walking; trying to convince the vampire watching her that she hadn't been spotted. Brittany obliquely made her way closer to the vampire's position, and then past it, smiling in satisfaction as she felt and heard the vampire follow behind her.

At the opportune moment, after Brittany turned a corner and disappeared behind a mausoleum, Brittany grabbed onto one of the attached statues and swung into a hidden, elevated place. She watched silently as the Latina vampire turned the corner and glanced around suspiciously. Hesitantly she continued in the direction she believed Brittany had gone. Once under her, Brittany leaped onto the vampire, eager for her first kill. She tackled the vampire and pinned her, face up, on the ground, straddling her waist.

"Die, Vampire scum!" She yelled, raising the stake above her and baring her teeth. Just as she was about to slam the stake down into the beast's heart, it cried out.

"Brittany, wait!"

Brittany froze. All the lectures Artie had given her about keeping her identity secret flashed through her mind. Fear surged through her, then anger. With her free hand she grabbed the woman by the collar, dragging her closer to Brittany's face and growling, "How do you know my name? How did you find out already? Who are you? If you tell me quickly, I'll kill you quickly."

The vampire winced and muttered, "Jacob is going to flip."

"What?" Asked Brittany, shaking the vampire.

"Never mind," the other woman answered. "My name's Santana-"

"I don't care about your name, Demon. I care about how you know mine!"

"I'm…I'm not…"

"What? Not a demon? I can tell that you are, so don't even begin that sentence."

"I'm not like the others," Santana bit out. "I'm not- I don't kill people. I have a…soul."

"Vampires don't have souls," Brittany said immediately, remembering everything Artie had told her.

"Exactly," Santana responded, lifting an eyebrow.

Brittany cocked her head in contemplation. Already she was lowering her stake. "So…you're like a good vampire?"

"Yes," said Santana, gasping in relief.

Brittany released Santana and pocketed her stake. "That make sense," Brittany said. "You're really pretty."

If Santana could have, she would have blushed. She had been immediately taken with the cheerleader upon seeing her. Santana didn't think she had ever seen a more beautiful girl. She represented to Santana everything that was good and pure in the world, and the hope of a future for herself. The idea that this vibrant, beautiful girl found her pretty meant more to her than she could express.

"Thanks," Santana said, looking down to keep her adoration from shining through.

"That still doesn't explain how you know my name, though…"

"Oh," Santana said, frowning. "Well, a few days ago I met-"

She was cut off when Brittany continued her thought, "Have you been like watching me or something?"

"No," Santana exclaimed quickly. Then she paused, a frown coming upon her face. She actually had kind of been stalking her, to be honest.

Brittany smirked down at the flustered vampire between her legs. She raised an eyebrow and said, "Mmm…that's pretty kinky, Ms. Santana, Vampire with a Soul. Pretty damn kinky…"

* * *

A few hours later Brittany returned to the warehouse Artie used as a HQ and a home, humming happily.

Artie raised his gaze from the tome he had been studying for the past several hours, relief flooding through him at the sight of a happy and whole Slayer returning home. "Ah, Brittany," he said, setting aside his text. "Wonderful. Did you encounter any vampires during your patrol?"

"Yup," Brittany said, hopping onto the arm of a sofa.

"And?"

Brittany grinned brightly and chirped, "I had sex with her!"

Artie stared at Brittany, gape-mouthed and wide eyed. "That…was the wrong response, I'm afraid."

Brittany giggled and rolled her eyes. "She wasn't a normal vampire, silly. She's a good vampire!"

"There's no such thing, Brittany."

The new Slayer shrugged. "She has a soul. She said so."

"And you just took this creature at her word?"

Brittany huffed in annoyance and said, "I could just tell, alright? She definitely wasn't evil. Besides…nobody that hot can be all that bad. And there are definite advantages to not having to breath, let me tell you."

* * *

Many things happened after that. Brittany met up with Santana one more time and was crestfallen to learn that she was leaving. But her sadness was soon forgotten when the ancient vampire Lothos made his presence known and began churning out minions at an alarming pace. She met a slightly older guy named Mike who she hit it off with and who joined her in her fight against Lothos. Then Artie got killed, some of her friends got killed, and she killed Lothos and about a hundred other vampires. She had to burn down her school's gym to get them all, which got her kicked out and required that Mike flee town and arson charges. With Lothos dead and with Artie dead, Brittany figured her time as Slayer was done. Her parents got divorced, and her mom decided to leave L.A. to find somewhere nice to take her into their school system. After a few weeks of searching, she finally found one that she liked: Sunnydale.

To Be Continued…

A/N2: This is just the beginning of what I plan on being an epic project! I wanted to get this written and posted as quickly as possible, to stake my claim on the fill, but I don't know exactly when the next part will be up. I'll try not to take ages, but with a project this big (theoretically covering at least three seasons) I'm planning on taking it slow. So, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and that you're intrigued about the future. Next chapter will be when I seriously begin to sink my teeth into the prompt. Santana will reappear, the Scoobies will be introduced, and you'll find out who's going to be in the Giles role, as well as everyone else.


	2. Welcome to the Hellmouth, Part 1

Brittany the Vampire Slayer

Chapter 1 – Welcome to the Hellmouth…

"_In every generation there is a chosen one. She alone will stand against the vampires, the demons, and the forces of darkness. She is the Slayer."_

1.

The nightmares were returning. Nightmares of blood and fire, death and pain; and of a horrifying figure, visage warped with hatred and cruelty. For Brittany's entire life, she had suffered from vivid dreams and terrifying nightmares, for which there apparently was no cure. Her list of attempted and proscribed cures ranged from deep meditation to strong medication to weekly colonics. Nothing had worked, and four or five nights a week she fought for her life against forces and people that she had no way of understanding. When she had met Artie, however, and had been able to contextualize her dreams, they tapered off until they nearly disappeared altogether. Even after Artie's death, even after her expulsion, and even after her parent's divorce the nightmares had remained dormant.

Until the night she moved to Sunnydale.

Brittany stared at her miserable reflection in the mirror, pressing her fingers against the bags under her eyes in a desperate attempt to make them disappear. For five straight nights she had been waking up nearly every hour, images of razor-sharp claws and broken crosses running through her head. Last night, the night before her first day at Sunnydale High, had been the worst. All in all, Brittany didn't even think she'd slept an hour. And she still had worry about what to wear. God!

Brittany expelled a sigh that came out as a semi-sob, and began to undress. She took a moment to study her naked upper body, running a hand along her chest and stomach. She bit her lip and allowed her hand to stray lower for a moment. Her breath quickened. That was another aspect of her monumental bad mood: she hadn't had sex in nearly three months, not since her one weekend visiting Mike in his new digs in Vegas, and she hadn't had really extraordinary sex in even longer, since the vampiress Santana had mysteriously disappeared from her life.

Her eyes flicked to the side of her neck and she brought her hand up to touch the scar marring the surface of her skin. It was a souvenir from their last time together, a token of the chaotic madness of their last coupling; just the thought of that night made Brittany's entire body flush. It had been primal, pure…animalistic. Brittany had slept with a fair amount of people of both sexes, and many of them had talked big about possession and marking her as theirs, but none had ever done so literally nor had Brittany ever actually reacted so strongly. Most of her sexual partners, even her boyfriends and girlfriends, were nothing more than fleeting flings. She was only a teenager, she had thought, so there was no reason to involve any messy feelings. That had changed with Santana, and, honestly, it had changed even before she had been bitten. She had known Santana for only a couple of achingly brief days, yet months later she was still filled with lust and longing.

She traced along the ridges of her scar, taking comfort in the lines and contours of her lover's teeth. She probably knew Santana's teeth better than Santana did at this point. Brittany allowed her mind to stray back to that night again, remembering fondly the look of terror on Santana's face when she had cried out, in a moment of passion, her desire to bite Brittany. She immediately took it back, claiming to have spoken without thinking, but the idea had lit an unquenchable desire in Brittany and she had spent the remainder of the night begging for Santana's bite. When Santana had finally given in it had been the most sublime moment of her life, it had been…

Brittany exhaled through her nose and gripped the sides of her sink, saying to the flustered, lovesick girl in the mirror, "Enough. Enough!"

She stared into her eyes, seeing the sadness there, immediately knowing that it would never be enough. She was marked, forever. She was Santana's, and she would probably never see her again.

She shook her head, let go of the sink, and stepped into the shower. Her life was a mess already; there was no way she was going to make a bad impression on her first day at her school.

* * *

Kurt Hummel watched the blonde girl effortlessly glide through the sea of teenagers milling around the entrance to Sunnydale High. From the second he had seen her, his jaw had dropped in astonishment, and he had been filled with a deep longing.

She was stunning…she was incredible…she was carrying a Balenciaga handbag and wearing Manolo Blahniks. And they were authentic, he could tell immediately. He had never seen anything so beautiful. The girl obviously had incredible style and taste, which begged the question: what she was doing in a pathetic, backward, one-Starbucks town like Sunnydale?

He was so busy eyeing the girl enviously that he forgot to watch where he was walking and ending up running right into the stair rails, falling flat on his face. In the black darkness behind his closed eyes, pain blossomed in Technicolor. He felt his cheeks burning as he heard the laughter of those nearby. Without lifting his eyes from the ground, he began to gather up his bag and its spilled contents.

"Do you need any help?" Like a ray of light piercing through clouds, a kind voice pierced through the laughter. Kurt whipped his head up to see who was speaking to him. His jaw dropped when he discovered the blonde he had been eying staring down at him, a soft smile playing on her lips.

He gaped at her, jaw slack, for a few moments, until he noticed her smile faltering in discomfort and blurted, "No, I'm fine. Thanks."

The blonde's grin returned to its original brightness, and she chirped, "Wonderful!" She extended a hand, and when Kurt grasped he found himself, to his shock, being pulled almost effortlessly off the ground. "I'm Brittany," the girl informed him once they were both standing.

"Kurt," he replied.

"Pleasure to meet you, Kurt. I was wondering…could you maybe show me to the Principal's? It's my first day, and…" She trailed off and raised her eyebrows.

Kurt nodded eagerly and hitched his messenger bag higher on his shoulder, turning to the entrance and motioning for Brittany to follow him. As she fell into step beside him, he nervously said, "By the way, I, um, love your shoes."

Brittany glanced down, and when she looked back up she had a large smile on her face. "Thanks! They're all the rage in L.A."

Kurt's eyes widened. "You're from L.A.? I would kill to live in L.A.! That close to that many shoes…"

The two teens made their way to the principal's office, talking L.A. and fashion the entire time. Brittany was pleasantly surprised; she hadn't at all expected to meet someone as knowledgeable as Kurt in a place like Sunnydale. Even if she wasn't the Slayer anymore, maybe this town wouldn't be so bad.

After a couple of minutes they stopped in front of a glass office.

"This is you," Kurt chirped.

"Thanks a lot, Kurt," Brittany said warmly. "Talk to you later!"

Kurt watched as Brittany entered the office and began talking to the receptionist, a feeling of dread settling in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't help but worry that he would never really talk to her again. By sheer luck he had met her before she had been corrupted by the likes of Karofsky and Azimio, not to mention before she found out that Kurt was on the absolute bottom of the social food chain. Soon she would learn that being seen with him was social suicide, soon she would be one of the popular people, and Kurt just knew that she would buy into the system just as much as any other teenager did.

He shook his head sadly as Brittany was led into Figgins' office, and marched off in the direction of the choir room. He managed to make it to his sanctuary with little hassle, entering to find his the two people who were usually there: his best friend, Mercedes, and his biggest rival, Rachel.

It was their sanctuary too. Well, really, it was Rachel's sanctuary too, and Mercedes just hung around because Kurt and Rachel both loved it here. If there was one person in this school who was as hated and bullied as much as he, it was Rachel. It should have brought them together, should have made them bond over their shared experiences, but their ambition overshadowed their empathy for the other. Or maybe they were just too similar to ever really get along. Both were on the bottom of the social ladder, both were desperate to get out of Sunnydale, both were best friends with Mercedes, both were amazingly talented singers with designs on Broadway, and both were completely certain that there was only room there for one of them.

"Kurt," Rachel greeted him haughtily.

"Rachel," Kurt returned coolly.

"You guys…" Mercedes said warningly.

"Sorry," Kurt and Rachel said contritely, eyes downcast. Mercedes was the one thing connecting Kurt and Rachel, and both did their best to get along when they were all together.

Mercedes rolled her eyes in frustration, before changing the topic. "Kurt, you might want to sit down for this, but…there's a pair of designer shoes somewhere in this school."

"Connected to a stunningly beautiful girl, I might add," Rachel chirped, drawing the curious stares of her companions. "What? I can be objective about beauty."

"That was hardly objective, Rachel."

"Whatever," Rachel said dismissively, standing up and pressing her books to her chest. "I must be going," she declared dramatically. "I have a test in third period, and if I don't study I might get a B."

With those parting words, she strode out.

Mercedes and Kurt shared a look, rolling their eyes. After a second of grinning at each other, Kurt said, "I have, in fact, already met the pair of shoes about which you speak AND the girl to which they were connected. Her name is Brittany, she moved here from L.A. She's pretty much awesome…"

* * *

"Brittany Pierce, sophomore, Los Angeles. It says here that you burned down your school."

Principal Figgins, a severe looking Indian man, peered at Brittany over her permanent record.

"Just the gym," Brittany assured him, a fake smile plastered on her face. "And I totally had a good reason."

"Oh? What was that?"

"Vamp-" Brittany stopped herself in the middle of the truth, Artie's exhortations that her identity must be kept a secret flashing through her mind, and desperately scrambled to come up with an alternate word. "…Ires."

But she couldn't. Vampires. Vampires! She wanted to smack her forehead, she felt like such a dolt. Principal Figgins' eyes widened slightly, and he lifted an eyebrow curiously. "Vampires?" He queried.

Mentally, Brittany shrugged, and decided to just go with it. "Yup."

"You burned down your gym because of…vampires?"

Brittany winced. Maybe that was a mistake too. She should really just learn not to trust her instincts.

"Well, to kill them."

Principal Figgins' eyes widened even more. "You kill vampires?"

Brittany sighed. There was no way she was going to be let into school now. She might even be carted away to a loony bin. "Yes," she said resignedly. "I'm a Vampire Slayer, actually."

But all Figgins did was snap shut her file and say, "Good. I hate vampires. Very nasty. They are an offense to God." Brittany stared at the older man in shock as he opened a drawer beside him and extracted a large stack of paperwork. "Very good, Brittany. It was a pleasure to meet you, but you should now be getting to class. As you leave, ask Penelope to print out your schedule. Ok?"

"Um," said Brittany, still flabbergasted.

"Wonderful. Have a pleasant day."

"Thank you?" Brittany muttered, hesitantly standing up. Figgins didn't respond, his eyes perusing the printed page in front of him. Brittany exited the office, stopping at Penelope the Receptionist's desk to get her schedule, and then headed to her first class at Sunnydale High.

Thirty minutes later, after meeting her teacher and being introduced to the class, and Brittany was about to crawl out of her skin. European History, somehow, was even more boring than American History. As the teacher blathered on about rats and fleas, or whatever, Brittany zoned out. She didn't care about stupid history; she wanted to dance, or fight, or fuck. She wanted to do something worthwhile, something that wasn't just sitting around.

She was knocked from her thoughts when the teacher said, "Now, everyone take out your books and turn to page 37 to see an example of what I've been talking about."

The room was filled with the sounds of shuffling students and rustling bags as everyone leaned over in their seat to retrieve their texts. Panic began to rise in Brittany as she realized she had forgotten about a pretty big part of high school: the books! She hadn't been given a single book so far, nor been given any hint of where she might get some. Her eyes darted from the teacher to the students, wondering what to do. She nearly yelped when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

Turning to the source of the touch, she found a big, beefy boy, obviously a football player, probably a lineman, smiling at her kindly. "Here, you can share mine."

Relief flooded through Brittany, and she smiled warmly at the boy in gratitude. They shared the book in silence for the remaining twenty minutes, both only sort of listening to the teacher's lecture. When the class ended, the boy loaded up all of his supplies into his bag and stood up, offering his hand to Brittany. "I'm Dave," he said. "Dave Karofsky. You're new."

Brittany grasped his hand lightly and returned, "Brittany. Brittany Pierce. And, yeah, I am."

"Don't worry about the books. The teachers at this school can barely remember to show up themselves, let alone take care of the students. Textbooks are leased from the library; there should still be a few left…want me to show you where it is?"

"Sure!" Exclaimed Brittany brightly. "Thanks."

They set off in the direction of the library making small talk. She had been right about Dave: he played football, right guard on offense and left tackle on defense, and, according to him, he led the state in sacks. "We have practice right after school, if you'd like to come and check it out, maybe go to the town club, the Bronze, later…"

"Sure," she agreed. "That sounds nice. My school in L.A. was big into basketball, so I don't know football all that well. I mean, I was a cheerleader, so I know it some, but I stopped doing football games when I left JV and…"

Brittany trailed off when she caught sight of Kurt walking in the opposite direction. His eyes were locked onto the two of them, a look of sadness etched on his face. Brittany wondered why he looked to distraught. She got an answer, at least a partial one, a moment later.

Dave left her side and stalked closer to the smaller boy, looming over him and growling, "What're you looking at, Hummel?"

The sadness on Kurt's face transformed into anger, and a little fear, and he said in a clipped voice, "Um, a Neanderthal? A pile of shit stacked over six feet high? Someone who got into regular classes the same way Forrest Gump did? I could keep going…"

Dave suddenly pushed Kurt, launching him against the nearby lockers. Kurt took a moment to reorient himself, then Dave moved even closer, his face only inches away from Kurt's, hissing, "You think you're so funny."

"I _am_ funny. You're just a philistine."

They stared at each other intensely for a few moments, neither willing to break the gaze or back down. This went on until Brittany cleared her throat from behind them. The sound broke the tension, as Brittany had hoped, and Dave backed away from Kurt, the anger draining from his face. He shook his head and said, "Just get out of here, Hummel."

Kurt clenched his jaw and marched away without another word. Dave watched him go for a moment, scowling. Then he shook his head to clear his thoughts, and turned back to Brittany with a friendly smile. The change, the difference, was remarkable. They began walking again. "If you want to fit in here, you need to learn your geeks. Hummel's one of the worst, along with Berry. There are two kinds of people in this school; those who get pushed into lockers and those who do the pushing."

"And you're a pusher, obviously," Brittany said, unable to hide a slight edge of disapproval in her tone.

Dave lifted his eyebrows at her and said, "I get the impression that you are as well, Brittany. But I just met you, so what do I know?" Dave stopped suddenly, and gestured, saying, "Well, this is it. Just ask the librarian for whatever you need. I'll see you around."

"Yeah," Brittany said quietly, watching Dave walk away. Dave hadn't been far from the truth. She had been the Queen Bee in her old life, and had made many people miserable without a care or a thought. Not too long ago, Dave would have been her idea of the perfect boyfriend. The thought made her slightly queasy. She let out a sigh and pushed the doors to the library open.

* * *

"Hello?" She called into the empty room. "Hello? Anybody here? Mr. Librarian?"

"May I help you?" Asked a feminine voice from behind Brittany. She whirled around to find an attractive, willowy blonde dressed in a grey pencil skirt and a white button-up blouse. It wasn't who Brittany had been expecting, to say the least.

"Um…"

"You realize you're in a library, right? Why are you screaming?"

Brittany flushed red in embarrassment. "Sorry," she mumbled.

"It's fine. Just be quiet in the future. Now, again, how may I help you?"

"I, um, I need to get some textbooks. I'm new."

The librarian peered at Brittany in interest. "Ms. Pierce? I've been expecting you."

"Wow," uttered Brittany in surprise. "I guess I'm the only new kid."

The librarian walked behind the check-out counter and began rummaging around behind it. "Not exactly," she said, hefting the biggest book Brittany had ever seen onto the surface of the counter. Brittany's eyes widened when she saw the cover of the book and her jaw went slack. Her eyes darted from the cover of the book to the smiling face of the librarian and back several times. She reached out reverently and traced the letters in the title of the book, which had been ornately etched onto the cover.

"Vampyr," she whispered under her breath, excitement rising within her breast. Her eyes locked onto the figure before her a final time. "You're a…"

"A Watcher," the librarian confirmed. "Your Watcher," she elaborated, eliciting a large smile from Brittany. "My name's Holly Holliday."

To Be Continued…


	3. Welcome to the Hellmouth, Part 2

2.

When she heard some student being obnoxiously loud in the front of the library, Rachel Berry stood and marched toward the source of the offending noise to give the loud girl a piece of her mind. This was a library, she thought indignantly. There were people studying! What kind of inconsiderate buffoon didn't know to be quiet in a library?

Just as she reached the edge of the stacks, however, she heard the voice of Ms. Holliday reprimanding the girl and stopped short. Oh well. Just so long as she didn't do it again. Rachel was about turn around and head back to her study area when she caught sight of who had just been yelling a moment ago: the new girl, who Rachel had called "stunningly beautiful" just over an hour before. Rachel gazed at the girl, thinking that she definitely hadn't been mistaken. Rachel bit her lip. She knew that she should turn around and get back to Chemistry, that her grade was dangerously close to becoming a "B", but she couldn't help eavesdrop a little to learn about the new girl.

Soon, however, the conversation went from interesting to downright bizarre. Ms. Holliday treated the new girl familiarly, like she knew her, and then presented her with a gigantic, ancient tome. The girl whispered something Rachel couldn't make out, and then Ms. Holliday called herself something strange: A Watcher. "Your Watcher," she said to the student.

For a split second, Rachel wondered whether she had stumbled upon something unsavory. Was Ms. Holliday propositioning the girl in some sexual way? Should Rachel intercede? Should she tell Principal Figgins? Her decision was interrupted by an ear-splitting squeal of joy coming from the new student, followed by delighted laughter.

Ms. Holliday joined in the girl's pleasure, grinning and chuckling along with her, even going so far as to link arms and hop up and down a few times. Finally, the librarian had to put a stop to the exuberance.

"Brittany! Brittany, calm down! Library, remember? Quiet voice."

"Sorry," said the new girl – Brittany, Rachel corrected-, looking mollified for a moment. But only for a moment, which was followed by another wide grin and a happy little shimmy. "I'm just excited."

"Obviously," Ms. Holliday commented sardonically. "I'm glad, really. I was afraid you would need some convincing."

"Are you kidding? I'm happier than three thousand rainbows! I thought that, after Artie died, after I killed Lothos, that I was done being a Slayer. I was so, so sad. I love fighting, I love doing good. And now, maybe I'll get to see-"

Brittany cut herself off; biting her lip and then shrugging, finishing with, "I'm just happy."

Rachel, in the stacks, was only standing because she was gripping one of the shelves with all her strength. She could barely understand the words the two were speaking, but she was certain that Brittany had just admitted to murdering someone. And Ms. Holliday just took it in stride.

"Again, I'm glad. I was certain you had stopped Slaying because you didn't want to do it anymore. It never occurred to me that you didn't fully understand what being a Slayer meant."

Brittany shrugged, saying defensively, "I was only with Artie for a few weeks, you know. We did the best we could. I killed Lothos, which is more than any other Slayer can say. He was the only vampire I ever dreamed of, and Artie was gone, so it just made sense to me that it was all over."

Vampire? Slayer? Rachel's knees were getting weak with fear, and she had to clamp a hand over her mouth to keep from exclaiming.

"I'm not attacking you, Brittany, or your previous Watcher for that matter, when I say this, but it's apparent you've been severely undertrained and misinformed."

"It's kinda hard to teach train someone when you're dead! I'm sure Artie would have told me everything I needed to know, explained more about my past-life dreams, if he'd lived."

Ms. Holliday held up a hand, saying, "Hold up. Past-Life Dreams?"

Brittany nodded. "Yeah…all my life I've had dreams about being the Slayer."

Ms. Holliday nodded. "That's normal, Brittany."

"And I was nearly always fighting Lothos..."

"As I said, it's completely normal to have dreams of Slayers past. You might have unconsciously superimposed your image on them, but you were actually experiencing the memories of other slayers throughout time. Those weren't your past lives…they were just one of the ways a Slayer is prepared for her heritage. And as for dreaming of Lothos…very often a Slayer will experience prophetic dreams to warn and prepare her for her destiny. Yours was always entwined with Lothos."

"But Artie said-" Brittany began defensively.

Ms. Holliday sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Brittany, Arthos Abrams was a fine man. A good man. But he was in no way fit for field duty. He was barely more than a kid, for Christ's sake! I'm not saying this to attack him, but to explain. His father, Quentin, is the head of the Council of Watchers, and Arthos was a victim of his father's hubris. He was assigned a potential Slayer three years ago, when he was only eighteen. The Potential was eighteen as well, and it was pretty much accepted that her time as a Potential was coming to an end. But when she was called, last year, his father refused to assign a more experienced Watcher. This was unprecedented, this was…idiotic, for a number of reasons. Not least of which because, by this point, it had become apparent that Arthos and his Slayer had fallen in love."

"Apparent how?" Asked Brittany, in rapt attention. Her former mentor had always resisted her efforts to learn more about his life, and had always made an effort to create a distance between them.

"Well, the child was a pretty big clue. The marriage as well."

Brittany's eyes widened in shock. "Artie had a kid? Has a kid?"

Ms. Holliday nodded, explaining, "She's with her grandparents - her maternal ones, thank God. Anyway, she lasted as a Slayer for barely a year, and died protecting Arthos. She couldn't save his spine, however. At that point, any sane man would have spared his son and assigned another Watcher to the next Slayer- to you. But not Quentin; in fact, he had Arthos healed through magic to more quickly make him available. And you know the rest of the story: First his spine, then his life, all to sate his father's ego."

Ms. Holliday finally ended her tale, shaking her head sadly. She opened her mouth to begin on a new topic, when the bell for third period rang. "Shoot," she exclaimed. "You'd better get to class. You can't be drawing attention to yourself this soon. Come here right after school, though!"

Brittany nodded, gathered her belongings, and left. Rachel watched as Ms. Holliday followed her out of the library a few moments later, and then exited from behind the shelves. "What?" She asked the empty room, mystified. The entire conversation between Brittany and the librarian was pure insanity, but it was apparently an insanity that both blondes shared. That alone was enough to give Rachel pause.

The second bell rang, and Rachel was forced to put everything she had just heard out of her mind. She gathered her study materials and rushed to Chemistry.

* * *

A few hours later, Rachel was sitting alone outside the school, dividing her attention between sheet music and trig formulas, when she was approached by Brittany.

"Hi," Brittany called cheerfully. "You're Rachel, right? I'm Brittany."

Rachel's first instinct was to run away from the insane person, but she steeled her resolve and looked Brittany in the eye. "Hello," she greeted. "I am Rachel Berry, yes."

"Good," Brittany said, sitting down on the stone bench beside the brunette.

"Can I help you with something?" Rachel asked, eyeing Brittany warily.

Brittany frowned, wondering why the girl was bordering on rude. She put it out of her mind and ploughed ahead with her reason for being here. "I wanted to ask you a favor. Rumor has it that you're the one to talk to if I want to catch up with my classes."

A quick look of pride flashed across Rachel's face, accompanied by a quick smile. "You've heard correctly," she affirmed. "Barring any unforeseeable disasters, or my inevitable but temporally unpredictable big break, I plan to graduate as Valedictorian."

"Awesome! So, you'll help?"

Rachel stared at Brittany with a raised eyebrow. She was having serious trouble reconciling the apparently crazy person of the library with this bright, bubbly person worried about her grades. "I didn't say that…" Rachel began, frowning. "If I were to help you…what would you do for me in return?"

Brittany stared at her, wide-eyed. "What? Why? I thought-"

"I don't make a habit of doing favors, especially such open-ended ones, for complete strangers, _especially_ for people who hang around with Dave Karofsky."

"What does Dave have to do with this? Is it illegal to be seen with him, and hang around with you?"

"Yes," Rachel said immediately, firmly. "Very much so."

Brittany rolled her eyes in frustration, and said, "Look, Dave's been really nice...to me, at least. And, I hate rules. So I'm going to go ahead and keep hanging with him if I feel like it, and with you as well, and with anyone else I damn well please. But I have a hard enough time with school without playing catch-up, so if you're looking to get something in return for your services: name your price. What is it you want?"

Rachel flushed a bright red and cast her eyes downward. She was silent for a few moments, before raising her eyes again. Biting her lip, she discreetly pointed across the courtyard and announced, "Him."

Brittany followed Rachel's gaze and the direction of the pointed finger, finding a tall, handsome, sweet looking boy in a letterman jacket at the other end. His eyes were kind, and his smile was wide and genuine as he joked around with some of his friends. Brittany lifted her eyebrows and turned back to Rachel, grinning.

"Good taste, Rach."

A small smile graced Rachel's features. "Thank you, Brittany. His name is Finn Hudson. He's the quarterback on the football team and a guard on the basketball team. And he's in a band…He's the most popular boy in school."

"Look at you, Rachel! Way to reach for the brass ring."

Rachel frowned, and muttered, "You don't think I can get a boy of Finn's quality, do you? You're making fun of me."

Brittany reached out a hand and placed it on Rachel's forearm. "Not at all. I'm just wondering why you don't have him as it is." She raised an eyebrow, saying, "You don't strike me as the type to not go after what you want."

Rachel blushed and looked down again, saying, "When I get around a boy I like…I just freeze up. I'm usually very articulate, but around Finn I can barely get out a grunt. That's what I want your help with. You're obviously very capable in that department."

Brittany raised an eyebrow, and, smirking, said, "Are you calling me a slut?"

Rachel's eyes shot up, alarm etched on her face. "No! No, I'm just saying…well, you've been here less than a day and you already have several secret admirers. And rumor has it that Karofsky is actively courting you."

"Courting?"

At that moment they were interrupted by another voice. "Don't worry about that, Brittany. You'll get used to it. Rachel's diction is as archaic as her voice is mediocre."

"Well, Kurt," Rachel sniffed, "You have such atrocious taste that I actually take it as a compliment that you think I'm mediocre."

Brittany watched the exchange between the two with raised eyebrows, and then shared an amused glance with the short, back girl accompanying Kurt. The girl smirked, and said, "And I'm the sane one, Mercedes."

Brittany extended a hand, saying, "Nice to meet you."

The group chatted for a few minutes, in a mostly friendly manner. They went silent when Rachel noticed Karofsky making his way over and nudged Kurt to alert him. As he approached, it looked like he couldn't decide whether to smile at Brittany or scowl and Kurt and Rachel. He ended up just looking kind of constipated. "Are these losers bothering you, Brittany?" He asked when he arrived.

"Not at all," Brittany said cheerily.

Now Karofsky did scowl, saying, "I don't want to interrupt your downward mobility, but I just wanted to let you know that you can't come watch me practice today. Coach Tanaka turned up dead." Karofsky's scowl turned into a frown. "I wish that would stop happening."

"Dead?"

"Totally dead," Dave affirmed.

"So not just a little dead, then?" Quipped Kurt, smirking nastily.

"Go hump a shoe, Hummel."

The two were gearing up for another fight, but Brittany interrupted. Standing, she grasped Dave's arm and asked, "Where?"

"Aura and Blue found him, stuffed in a locker, when they were changing," Dave said. He smirked and continued, "I think Aura fainted."

"How did he die? Were there any marks?"

Dave extracted his arm from Brittany's grasp, looking at her curiously, "How should I know? I didn't find the dude. Why are you so interested?"

Brittany evaded Dave's interrogatory gaze, only to find Rachel, Kurt, and Mercedes looking at her with equal trepidation and curiosity.

"I've gotta go," she said. She quickly made her exit. The four students all watched her go for a moment. Then Dave realized who he was standing around with and also made a hasty exit.

"That girl is a strange one," Mercedes mused. Kurt shrugged. Only Rachel continued staring after the blonde, a contemplative look on her face.

* * *

Brittany quickly gained access to the corpse and studied it, confirming what she had suspected: the coach had been killed by a vampire. She couldn't help but be a little excited about the prospect of battling the forces of darkness again, but quickly tamped down on that feeling out of respect for Coach…Whoever's memory. Once she had confirmed that vampires were involved, she sought out her new Watcher to work out their next move.

Brittany hadn't quite recovered from the discovery that she was still the Slayer. While she had retained her strength after everything, she had been under the impression that Lothos was one of the main vampire threats in the world. When no one had contacted her after Artie's death, Brittany had assumed that her tour of duty as Slayer was over. Her new Watcher was also a pleasant surprise, and Brittany could already tell that she was way cooler than Artie.

She pushed open the library doors, mindful to keep quiet this time. "Ms. Holliday?" She enquired in a stage whisper. "Are you here? I've got some serious news."

When she received no response she began to search the library. Soon she found herself outside the closed door of the librarian's office. She knocked lightly, listening for a response. She thought she heard some faint noises, but could not identify them. When there was no answer to her queries, she turned the knob gently and pushed open the door. "Ms. Holliday, are you here? There's something I needed to- Hey, now!"

There was a manly shriek and a scramble for clothes. Brittany's new Watcher and a curly-haired brunette man, both half-naked, shot up from their sprawled position on Ms. Holliday's desk. Ms. Holliday smoothed her skirt, while the man with too much product in his hair hastily buttoned his pants. Brittany grinned in amusement. The man flushed a deeper red. He straightened his tie, smoothed back his hair, and rushed to the door of the office which exited to the hallway. "That was," he began, stumbling over his words, "that was a very productive meeting, Ms. Holliday."

Hearing that, Brittany couldn't help but burst out giggling. The man blushed so badly he turned maroon and scurried away. Ms. Holliday smiled fondly after him, and let Brittany's laughing fit peter out. She looked down at Brittany, bemused, "Ever heard of knocking?"

"I did knock!"

"Oh," said Ms. Holliday, blushing slightly. "Well, I was distracted." She smirked. "Will Schuester is a very fascinating man."

"Obviously," said Brittany, smirking.

"Alright," said Ms. Holliday, rolling her eyes. "Enough of that. What did you want?"

Brittany sobered at the memory of the reason for her visit. The smile melted from her face and she said, "Ms. Holliday, I think we have a serious vampire problem. Have you heard about Coach...Whozit?"

"Tanaka...Yes," said Ms. Holliday, frowning. "That poor man. First his fiancé leaves him, now this. Oh, and call me Holly, by the way. I feel about fifty years old when you call me 'Ms. Holliday'."

"Alright. Well, he didn't exactly die of natural causes. I checked his body, and found a vamp bite."

Holly eased herself into her desk-chair and tapped her fingers on the armrest thoughtfully. "And so it begins. Will he turn?"

"No, he's just dead," Brittany replied. "And so what begins…Holly? What's going on? Why are there vampires in a town like Sunnydale?"

"This town is not what it seems," said Holly. "From everything I've studied, it has been at the center of supernatural activity for centuries. Vampires, witchcraft, zombies, demons…everything humanity has ever feared was in their closet or under their bed has made this town their home at one point or another. It's a mystical convergence point, and the membrane between this reality and those of the demon worlds is thinner here than any other location on the planet."

Brittany stared at Holly in wide-eyed shock. Vampires she had become used to…but witchcraft? Zombies? Demon worlds? For the first time in a long time, Brittany felt intimidated by the weight of her duty as Slayer.

"You're freaking out, aren't you?" Holly asked, peering at Brittany.

"A little," Brittany replied shrilly.

Holly smiled kindly at Brittany. She stood and rested a hand on the younger blonde's shoulder, saying, "Look, you showed great initiative today by checking out Coach Tanaka's body. I'll tell you what: you take tonight and you have fun. Pig out on junk food, go dancing at the Bronze, get laid…I don't know, whatever you want. Tomorrow we'll begin our training. Tomorrow you'll begin to learn about this town, about what's coming, and about how to stop it. Deal?"

Brittany stared into Holly's eyes, gratitude overwhelming her. She could already tell that she was going to love having Holly as a Watcher. Brittany sometimes couldn't believe her luck. Her life was just too cool to believe. "Deal."

To Be Continued...


	4. Welcome to the Hellmouth, Part 3

3.

Brittany walked toward the Bronze, looking forward to a night of dancing and fun. She wanted to lose herself in movement for a few hours; she wanted to shut off her thoughts and feelings. This day had been a roller coaster of fear and ecstasy and confusion, and she was ready to rise above all of that. But her plans for the night flew from her mind when she got about three blocks from the club and felt a familiar, shocking tingling along her skin…

Santana!

Brittany's head whipped up, her eyes darted around. She couldn't see the vampire, but she instinctively knew in which direction to move. Following the feeling in her skin like a dog tracking a scent, she wound her way through the side streets and back alleys. After several minutes she came upon a dilapidated, ground-floor apartment with boarded up and blacked out windows.

Her entire body was tensed in anticipation. She lifted her hand to knock, but stopped herself. Instead she grasped the knob and used her strength to force open the portal. The door opened immediately to a staircase descending to a basement room. The inside appeared as warm, inviting, and well-kept as the outside appeared condemned. Brittany crept quietly downward, towards a gentle light, almost like candlelight, flickering at the bottom of the stairway.

She turned the corner at the bottom of the stairs, and found the Promised Land. It was only a small living area with a couch and a couple of comfortable looking chairs, but sitting in one of the chairs, still engrossed in a large book, not noticing Brittany's sudden presence, was Brittany's personal Land of Milk and Honey. She froze for a moment, almost unable to comprehend the fact that she was seeing Santana again, taking a moment to just soak in the image of the brunette.

"Santana…" Brittany finally whispered, voice thick with emotion.

Santana froze in the middle of turning a page. She let the page slide away from her finger and slowly lifted her head, her eyes widening when she caught sight of Brittany. There was a man sitting near Santana, who Brittany had never seen and did not initially notice, whose head also whipped up. "Whoa," he exclaimed in a nasally voice, jumping up. His large, curly afro swayed as he moved. "Way to be early, Slayer."

Brittany didn't respond to the man; she simply continued to watch Santana. Santana had not moved yet. She sat stone-still, drinking in the image of the girl in front of her. "Brittany," she finally whispered.

Jacob rolled his eyes. "Yes, it's Brittany. And it's Santana. And I'm Jacob. Now we all know each other!" Neither girl took their eyes off the other. Jacob continued, "Look, I respect that you two have history, but if neither of you can speak or move in the other's presence…that'll get annoying fast. For me."

Brittany paid no mind to the blathering man in the room. Without conscious thought, her body surged forward, across the room, until she reached Santana. She straddled the seated woman, cradled her head, and pressed a deep kiss onto her lips.

"Well that's an improvement, at least."

Santana, who could barely manage a coherent thought under Brittany's ministrations, somehow managed to lift her arm and wave Jacob out of the room. "Hell no," Jacob answered. "This evening just got worthwhile."

Santana's motioning got more insistent. She broke her kiss with Brittany for the slightest of moments, biting out a frustrated, "Jacob! Go!"

Brittany, who honestly didn't care one way or another, recaptured Santana's lips and intensified her kiss. Santana, last reservoir of willpower gone, gave in to Brittany's probing tongue and wandering hands. Jacob watched in interest for a few more seconds, and then shrugged.

"Alright, I'm gone. I was just joking anyway." He grabbed his coat and headed toward the stairs. "Call me when you're done!" He received a muffled affirmation in response, and he left their apartment grinning.

* * *

Brittany arrived at the Bronze about an hour later than she had planned. She had attempted to convince Santana to accompany her, thrilled at the idea of tearing up the dance floor with her lover, but Santana had declined. Crowds were definitely not her thing. They had made plans to meet up the next day after Brittany finished school.

Brittany waltzed into the club feeling better than she had in months. This day had turned out to be one of the best of her life. She was still the Slayer, she had a great new Watcher, had met some interesting people, and, most of all, Santana was back in her life for the foreseeable future. Before Brittany had departed, Santana had briefly explained who Jacob was and what Santana's mission was and had always been. Warmth suffused her as she thought of Santana's task: helping and protecting her. Santana was almost literally her personal guardian angel. Her guardian demon.

Her eyes searched out a familiar face, first catching sight of Kurt and Mercedes sitting on the balcony and waving at them, then finding Rachel sitting alone at the bar, sipping a soda. She went over to the other girl, slipping into a chair beside her. "Hey, Rachel!" Brittany greeted.

"Brittany," said the other girl around the straw in her mouth. "You sound very…chipper."

Brittany grinned mischievously, leaning closer to Rachel and revealing, "Yeah, I just got laid. It was pretty much awesome."

Rachel emitted a surprised squeak in response to Brittany's declaration. "Congratulations?" She asked with wide eyes.

"Thank you!" Brittany turned slightly in her chair, surveying the dance floor with desire. Rachel continued to suck and chew on her straw, staring at the blonde girl in awe. After a few moments, Brittany turned back to Rachel and said, "So I've been thinking about your situation with Finn."

"Oh?"

"Yup. And I was thinking…you can't go from zero to sixty instantly. You need to get some experience first. When you make your move on Finn, you want to come off as a confident, in-control woman, right?"

"Right."

"So go talk to one of the guys in here. Have a discussion. Hang out. Maybe go somewhere and make-out."

"But…I can't."

"You seem like someone who values control, Rachel. So take control of the situation! That's what 95% of guys in the world want, really. They all want to know what they need to do to impress us, and they'll lap up any guidance they get."

"Really?"

Brittany smiled reassuringly. "Really. I'll leave you to it, Rach. I'm going to go dance until I can't think."

She stood up and slithered onto the dance floor, weaving between people until she had reached the epicenter. Rachel watched in admiration as she became the center of attention for all the available guys nearby, one of whom was Dave Karofsky. She deftly managed to dance with each without making any feel neglected. Watching her movements, Rachel steeled her resolve and decided to trust her new friend. She scanned the room, looking for a suitable candidate.

Brittany was lost in the music, grinding against whatever body happened to be closest, having a blast, when she felt the familiar tingling sensation indicating the presence of a vampire. Not the comforting, enveloping, warm feeling that accompanied Santana's presence, but the cold, hateful, unsettling sensation that meant there was a soulless demon nearby. Brittany froze in place, whipping her head around, frantically searching for the source. When she found it, her blood ran cold.

The vampire was good-looking enough, but was wearing clothes at least ten years out of date and sporting a haircut that screamed "'90s!", but what distressed Brittany so much was who this vampire had his arm draped around: Mercedes. They were walking out the door, smiling at each other.

"Shit," she exclaimed, attempting to dart in the direction, only to be up by the guy she had most recently been grinding against.

"Where do you think you're going, baby?"

Brittany rolled her eyes, realizing by the sound of his voice that the guy trying to hold her up was Dave, and threw off his grasp. He grabbed her again, his voice angry this time instead of flirtatious. "Hey, don't be a tease!"

Brittany whirled around to face the boy, locking eyes with him, glaring dangerously. Anger surged through her. Earlier in the day, when she wasn't sure about her future or her place in the Sunnydale High hierarchy, she had been willing to look past the kid's noxious personality. Now she knew she was the Slayer again, now she had a new Watcher, now she had Santana again. Now she was Brittany the Goddamn Vampire Slayer. She took a menacing step towards the much larger boy and exclaimed, "Fuck off and die, douche bag! You should be falling on your knees and thanking God you got what you did, not whining like a bitch about more."

She pushed him, harder than a normal girl could but not nearly at her full strength, sending him stumbling to the ground. Dave glared up at her in surprise. "Look at that Dave," she sneered. "You were right about me. I am a pusher."

Brittany turned again, her hair fanning out behind her in a golden wave, and started to wade through the morass of people between her and the exit. Once free, she sprinted in the direction Mercedes had departed with the vampire, but by the time she reached outside the trail had gone cold.

She rushed back into the club, seeking out Rachel. She found her delicately perched in the lap of a boy with olive skin and a swimmer's body. They were giggling and flirting, Brittany's advice obviously working. "Rachel," she began frantically, "I need to talk to you."

Rachel frowned in disappointment, and said, "Alright, Brittany." She stood up and followed Brittany a few feet away. Once out of earshot she whispered heatedly, "Brittany, things were going so well!"

"I have to find Mercedes," Brittany said urgently. "I saw here leaving with a guy. A bad sort a guy."

"Like a vampire sort of guy?"

Brittany froze, and stared at Rachel in shock. "Was there, like, a memo?" She asked, thinking back to Principal Figgins. "Is there anyone who doesn't know about vampires around here?"

"I overheard you talking to Ms. Holliday earlier," Rachel explained. "At first I didn't want to believe it. I wanted to think that you were crazy, but you're clearly not…so that leaves one explanation. Looking back, it actually makes sense. It's not normal for students to go missing every month. I have no idea why I ever thought it was…"

"It's a coping mechanism," Brittany said absently. "Most people never get past it. Look, I need to find Mercedes before something horrible happens to her. Is there anywhere she might take him?"

Rachel shrugged and said anxiously, "I have no idea."

Brittany nearly growled in frustration. "Alright, I'll have to figure something else out…" Brittany bit her lip, trying to think of a solution. "Santana!" Brittany exclaimed, remembering her lover's heightened sense of smell. She might be able to track down Mercedes.

"What? Who?"

"Never mind, I need to go."

"Wait," exclaimed Rachel. "I want to help. There must be some way…"

Brittany bit her lip again, thinking back to all the lectures she'd received about anonymity, before deciding. "Find Holly – Ms. Holliday; she'll probably be at the library. Let her know what's going on. There will be another friend of mine joining you in awhile- Jacob. He'll fill you guys in on the big picture."

Rachel nodded quickly, hurriedly said goodbye to the boy she had been flirting with, and rushed to gather her things. Brittany didn't waste another second, sprinting out of the club in the direction of Santana's apartment. Rachel headed off in the direction of the high school. Both were immensely worried about Mercedes. They were so worried, in fact, that neither noticed that Kurt had disappeared as well.

* * *

Mercedes had no idea what was going on. Her mind literally could not comprehend what was happening to her, could not compute the fact that the guy she had left the Bronze with had bitten her neck and drawn blood. She pressed a hand against her neck to staunch the bleeding. She could feel something impure seeping into her veins, something sickening, like she had ingested crude oil or injected bleach. She could barely think. She was trapped in a haze of fear and pain, and it barely registered that the guy she thought was so sweet was standing above her, laughing menacingly, with the face of a monster. She cowered desperately on the ground, her back pressed against the mausoleum wall.

Today had been going so well…

The new girl at school had turned out to be interesting and cool and, most impressively, willing to befriend "losers" like Rachel and Kurt. The idea that she might have an ally in school, someone who liked both Rachel and Kurt and who both liked, made her heart soar. She loved those two, really she did, but it sometimes got tiresome playing referee, with no one to turn to for back-up or support or escape.

After Brittany whirled into their life, Rachel and Kurt had spent the remainder of their day getting along better than usual. And then, when Mercedes had seen Brittany talk Rachel – Rachel!- into striking up a conversation with a guy, Mercedes and Kurt had taken it as a sign to attempt the same. Mercedes hadn't been expecting much, but even that had seemed to be going well. And now…

The man standing above her chuckled at her fear-induced actions, and growled, "I love the smell of your fear. It makes the blood taste better. You will make a wonderful treat for the Master."

"And how will the Master feel about feeding off of your leftovers, I wonder?"

Mercedes' attacker whipped around to face the source of the voice. "Lauren," he said, a tinge of fear in his voice. "I didn't mean to…I didn't think."

"Clearly," the hulking female vampire spat out. She stood in the frame of the doorway, clutching a terrified looking Kurt by the back of the neck. She pushed him forward, sending him stumbling halfway across the chamber.

For a moment Mercedes' fear diminished and her concern and love for her friend rose above it. "Kurt!" she cried in alarm.

The male vampire whipped around and hissed, "Shut your mouth!"

Mercedes' fear once again reasserted itself and she shrank back into the corner. Still, she extended a hand toward Kurt, which he crawled over to and grasped with a force she couldn't believe came from the frail boy. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god," he whispered again and again.

The female vampire – Lauren – swaggered into the room. "The boy somehow managed to escape from Victor. I found him fleeing across the cemetery. I killed Victor for his incompetence. I should kill you for the same, but I won't."

The male vampire breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you," he said.

"I'll leave that for the Master," Lauren clarified, grinning.

Mercedes had gathered Kurt protectively in her arms, holding him as he shuddered in fear. "Leave us alone," she whispered raggedly. "We won't tell anyone if you leave now. We promise."

Lauren eyed the two teenagers with disgust, before bursting into hearty laughter. "Oh, honey, that's so cute. That's just so, so cute."

"Unlike you, fugly," exclaimed a voice from behind them. Mercedes' eyes widened in shock as she look past Lauren and saw Brittany Pierce standing confidently in the entrance with a dark-haired, female companion standing behind her.

Lauren slowly turned around, a grin lighting up her face when she sighted the skinny teenager who had interrupted them. Then she looked past the blonde and saw the brunette behind her, and her smile became pure maliciousness. "Satana," she chuckled. "What are you doing here? Tired of licking rats? Come slithering back on your stomach asking for forgiveness?"

Santana didn't respond to Lauren's taunts, only nodding in acknowledgment and saying, "Lauren."

Brittany looked back and forth between the two, eyebrows raised. "You two know each other?"

"Oh, we know each other," Lauren said, chuckling. "We know each other quite well. Satana was once my greatest success, then she became my greatest disappointment."

Brittany turned to Santana, confused. "Lauren is my Sire," Santana whispered. Seeing that Brittany was still confused, Santana clarified, "She made me into a vampire."

"Oooh," Brittany uttered, drawing out her syllable of realization. She turned back to Lauren, smiling, and said, "Well, thanks for that. It worked out well for me, since SaNtana here is going to be helping me kill the likes of you from now on."

Her actions a blur to human eyes, Brittany drew a stake and launched it at the weaker, male vampire. It lodged in his chest, dusting him instantly. Then she soared into a flying kick, striking Lauren directly in the chest. The large vampire stumbled backwards a few feet, but otherwise was unfazed. While Lauren was recovering her balance, Brittany locked eyes with Mercedes and waved her forward. "Mercedes, Kurt! Come on!"

Mercedes scrambled to her feet, pulling Kurt with her as if he weighed nothing, and skittered past Lauren and behind Brittany. She turned to look at Santana and said, "Get them to safety." Turning back to Lauren, narrowing her eyes, she continued, "I'll finish this one off."

Santana's eyes widened in fear, and she exclaimed, "Brittany, no! You can't-"

"Just go!" Brittany yelled, taking a step towards Lauren. Santana cast a longing, nervous look back at Brittany, but relented and herded the two humans outside. Brittany and Lauren were alone, glaring hatefully at each other.

"You should have listened to Satana," Lauren said calmly, taking a step forward. Brittany responded in kind, and opened her mouth to begin the battle with a quip. Whatever she was going to say was cut off when, with more speed than Brittany ever would have imagined, Lauren surged forward and grabbed her by the throat. Lauren effortlessly lifted the blonde high above her head. Brittany's feet dangled far above the surface of the floor, and she kicked helplessly at her captor. Lauren squeezed harder, completely choking off Brittany's air supply, and growled, "If there one thing that girl knows how to do, which you obviously do not, it's stay alive."

To Be Continued…


	5. Welcome to the Hellmouth, Part 4

4.

Brittany struggled helplessly in Lauren's vice-like grip. She kicked her legs and flailed her arms, but to no avail. Black spots floated across Brittany's eyes as Lauren squeezed harder. The lack of oxygen wasn't really the problem. She had never pushed herself to her limits, but as the Slayer Brittany had astounding breath control. She knew for a fact she could go at least ten minutes without air. But that didn't matter if Lauren crushed her esophagus and snapped her neck. Fear flamed to life within her breast, and panic threatened to overtake her. If only she could take a deep, calming breath…

She needed to focus. She had to focus. She shook loose the emergency stake she kept hidden in her sleeve, and she managed to catch it in her hand. Immediately she tried to dust Lauren, but she couldn't get the stake anywhere near her heart. Noticing the Slayer's new weapon, Lauren redoubled the pressure on Brittany's throat.

Blackness began to overtake her vision, closing like an iris, and Brittany knew that she had to act immediately. Raising the stake above her head, she slammed it down with all her strength in the crook of Lauren's neck. Lauren howled in pain and collapsed to the ground, releasing Brittany. Brittany inhaled huge, gasping breaths and scrambled on the floor until her back was against the wall opposite Lauren.

Recovering slightly, Lauren sat up and glared at Brittany. She reached up and plucked the stake out of her neck, using her other hand to cover the wound. Blood bubbled from her mouth as she opened it and hoarsely whispered, "…gonna kill you."

Still breathing deeply, Brittany hoisted herself to her feet and rushed toward the exit. Santana had been right: she couldn't finish Lauren off by herself. But she had succeeded in buying Santana and the others enough time to escape, so Brittany didn't feel too bad about making a strategic retreat.

But Lauren wasn't giving up. She reared back and launched the stake in her hands at Brittany like a knife. Brittany cried out and fell to the ground again, as the stake struck her and lodge deep into the back of her thigh. She turned her head, fear racing through her as she saw Lauren struggling to get to her feet.

Brittany dragged herself back to the wall and braced herself against it, facing Lauren directly. Lauren paused on her knees, breathing heavily, blood leaking between the fingers that covered neck wound and also dribbling from her mouth. They simply stared at each other for a moment, completely still.

It was Brittany who moved first, lunging to the side and grabbing a large piece of rubble. She launched it at Lauren. With her one free hand, Lauren batted it away. A look of determination overtook her face, and she began to struggle again to her feet. Brittany grabbed another solid piece of granite, and threw it with all her remaining strength. This time she got a bullseye. Lauren, who was on one knee now and about to push herself into a standing position, was struck straight in the face with the stone. There was a spray of blood and a sickening crunch, as the stone thrown harder than any baseball pitcher could ever dream of impacted the flesh and bone of the vampire's face.

Lauren collapsed backwards, stunned into immobility. She ended up laying flat on her stomach, with her head turned toward the exit. Brittany once again hoisted herself to her feet, and limped to the door. She felt a wave of nausea as she caught sight of the shattered half of Lauren's face. The eye socket was completely collapsed, her nose crushed, and her jaw did not look like a jaw should.

Brittany considered crossing the room to end Lauren. But, just as the thought crossed her mind, the stunning effect of the pain cleared and Lauren opened her remaining good eye. She caught Brittany's gaze, an unflinching hardness in her eye, and Brittany saw a message there. Without a functioning jaw, Lauren could no longer say it, but Brittany heard it loud and clear: "You're gonna die."

Brittany retreated, as fast as her damaged leg could manage.

Brittany raced deeper into the cemetery, searching frantically for her friends. She heard the panicked screams of Kurt and raced off in their direction. She found Kurt being menaced by a female vampire, and quickly put the demon out of its misery. Kurt hugged her in gratitude, panting against her neck.

"Where's Santana?" She asked desperately. "And Mercedes?"

"I don't know," Kurt gasped. "We were ambushed almost as soon as we left the mausoleum. Your friend fought off as many as she could, but we got split up and had to run."

Just then Brittany heard the unmistakable sounds of fighting and rushed off in that direction, dragging Kurt along with her. By the time she reached Santana, however, she had killed all of her foes and stood victorious and grinning, surrounded by dust. Brittany rushed to her and gathered her into a hug. "Thank God you're okay," she breathed. "Do you know where Mercedes is?"

Santana shook her head, but lifted her nose slightly, searching for Mercedes' scent. "This way," she said after a moment. The three set off in the direction Santana indicated, but they were cut off by a cadre of more than a dozen vampires. The vampires attacked, two or three at a time, while the others attempted to surround them. "We can't get through these guys," Brittany bit out after a few minutes of holding off their advances. They were barely holding off those vampires present, and there were more arriving every second. "We've got to get Kurt back to safety. Regroup."

Santana nodded in agreement, grabbed Kurt, and retreated. Brittany took up the rear and held off the vamps just long enough to allow the others to escape. Then she followed.

* * *

Holly, Rachel, and Jacob were sitting silently around one of the study tables near the front of the library. The surface of the table was littered with texts, which the three had been perusing for nearly half an hour. The silence was shattered when Brittany, Santana, and Kurt hurriedly pushed their way into the room.

"Kurt!" Exclaimed Rachel, jumping up and racing over to the boy. To his surprise she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tight. "What happened? Where's Mercedes?"

Kurt, still dazed from the revelations of the night, could do nothing but silently shake his head. He detached himself from Rachel, not capable of handling affection from her on top of all the other surprises of the night, and stumbled to the nearest chair. Rachel turned her enquiring eyes to Brittany.

"We couldn't get to Mercedes…yet. We had to beat a hasty retreat, but Santana and I should be ready to go any minute. Santana?"

All eyes turned toward the brunette. She shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah?"

"Do you have any idea where they might have taken her?"

Santana bit her lip and began hesitantly, "Uh…" Her eyes sought out Jacob, unsure how much to say.

Jacob took that as his cue. Standing and clearing his throat, he said, "Brittany, before you go rushing in, guns blazing, you might want to know who you're going to be shooting at."

"I don't have time for exposition," Brittany declared. "I need to…"

She trailed off when Santana laid a hand on her shoulder. "Britt," she murmured comfortingly, "You'll have a better chance of saving Mercedes if you're prepared. Jacob and I are here to help…whether that means fighting by your side or giving you information."

Brittany emitted a frustrated sigh, but allowed Santana to guide her to a nearby chair. Once Brittany was seated, with Santana standing behind her rubbing her shoulders, Jacob cleared his throat and began speaking. "Alright, so, for everyone who came in late: you haven't been hallucinating tonight. Vampires are real. Demons are real. Magic is real. Santa Claus is real."

"I knew it!" Exclaimed Brittany, a gleeful smile on her face.

"But he's a demon who feeds on children."

"Awww," Brittany exhaled, deflating like a balloon.

"Sorry, Britt. Sad but true. Anyways: I'm Jacob, and the hottie hanging all over Brittany is Santana. Brittany is the Slayer. I'll let Holly over there expand on that…"

"Into every generation a chosen one is born, she who fights the vampires, the demon, and the forces of darkness. The Slayer. Brittany is the Slayer, I'm her Watcher. She fights demons, I help her out."

"Very succinct," continued Jacob. "Santana and I have been sent by The Powers That Be to help Brittany out. She's going to face some things that require more than your average Slayer, and she'll need all the help she can get. The Master, to be specific: one of the oldest vampires in existence, and easily the most powerful. The Sire of the Aurelian line, the most elite and vicious of vampire clans. He's under the town somewhere, looking real ugly, and planning the end of the world. He wants nothing more than to end the human race and reclaim the earth for the demons."

He paused to take a sip of water, before continuing, "Tomorrow, he is going to try to escape his prison. Tomorrow is the Harvest, and the crop is human beings. He'll send out a vessel, imbued with his blood, and every human that vessel kills will empower the Master and weaken his prison. If he can orchestrate the death of enough of them, he will be freed. We need to block his efforts. We can't kill him…yet…but we can make sure that he stays trapped for as long as possible. Hmm…what else, what else? Oh yeah: I'm a Balance Demon, and Santana is a vampire with a soul. Any questions?"

Whatever questions the others might have had, they were beaten to the punch by Holly, who stood up and rounded on Jacob. "I'm quite interested in that last bit, actually," she said pointedly. Turning to Brittany she asked, "Did you know about this?"

Brittany awkwardly looked from Jacob to Holly, then up at Santana. Santana squeezed her shoulder comfortingly. "Um…sort of? I knew about Santana…I thought Jacob was just some guy she knew." She turned to Jacob, "What's a Balance Demon?"

"I work to keep Good and Evil balanced. Well, I work for the side of Good to balance out the Evil."

Brittany turned to Holly, saying, "That doesn't sound so bad."

But Holly's attention was on Santana, her expression wary. "I've never heard of a vampire with a soul."

Jacob and Brittany both opened their mouths, but Santana cut them off. "That's because I'm the only one."

"How convenient," Holly deadpanned.

Santana rolled her eyes, beginning to get agitated, and said, "If I wanted to hurt any of you, I could have done so a dozen times already."

"Santana's done nothing but help me, ever since I met her!"

"And when was that?" Holly asked, eying her Slayer.

"Um…in L.A.? But it was only for a day or two. Then I re-met her tonight."

"So you've known this…woman for only a couple of days?" She turned around and flattened her hands on the table, sighing. "That is hardly reassuring. I'm a very laid-back person, Brittany, but I have to say that bringing demons to a demon-killer meeting seems kind of gauche."

Jacob took this as an opportunity to break back into the conversation. "Lady, there's really nothing you can do here. There's nothing you can do to keep Santana and I from helping Brittany; we were sent by an authority much higher than yourself or the Council. We can either help her together or separately. It would be better for Brittany if we were working together, don't you think?"

Holly was silent; Jacob continued. "You don't have to trust us…just tolerate us. We'll earn your trust."

Any further conversation was cut short by Kurt, who had been sitting silently since he arrived. Unknown by anyone else, his anger and frustration had grown the longer they argued. He leapt to his feet and turned on the rest of the group. "This is all very well and good," he said in a clipped, tight tone. Barely suppressed fury raged beneath his calm words. "Trust her; don't trust her…Order of Aurelius, The Powers that Be, whatever…How about Mercedes Jones? Hmmm? What about my best friend? Every second you talk and bicker is the second she might die." Kurt leveled his unwavering gaze on each person in the room, finally settling on Santana. "You want to earn my trust? Save my best friend."

He kicked his chair from behind him, sending it crashing across the floor and into the wall, and stormed out without another word. Silence ensued after his departure.

"I like him," Jacob said with a grin, breaking the silence. "Santana, let's do what he says."

* * *

Brittany and Santana worked quickly, figuring out the entrance to the Master's lair within the hour. As they descended into the sewers, Mercedes had been missing for over two hours. Both knew that the chances of her still being alive were less and less every second, and hadn't been good to begin with, but they both hopes for a miracle.

But if miracles happened very often they wouldn't be remarkable. About half an hour after they began their search, Santana first smelled and then saw the body of Mercedes, discarded like garbage. When Brittany caught sight of her, a choked sob escaped her throat. She knelt down to survey the body, but could only stand to do so for a moment. She stood and turned into Santana, burying her head into the crook of her neck. Tears poured down her face.

"They didn't even drain her," she murmured. "Somebody just snapped her neck. Why? Why would they do that?"

Santana opened her mouth to comfort the crying girl, but she closed it when she felt Brittany's hands and body clench in anger. "Lauren," Brittany spat, realization dawning on her. Her anger only lasted seconds, however, soon obliterated by another wave of sadness.

"This is my fault," she moaned. "I should have been able to protect her."

Santana wrapped her arms around Brittany and stroked the blonde's hair, murmuring soothing sounds. "No, baby, no. You saved a life tonight. You did everything you could. If you had done anything else you'd be dead right now, Kurt would be dead right now, and I'd probably be dead right now. The Harvest would go forward without impediment and even more would die."

Brittany melted even further into Santana, but said nothing. Santana pressed a kiss to Brittany's cheek, her temple, her forehead, before saying, "I know you wish you could save every single person in the world, Britt. I know that, and I'll be right there every step of the way. But some people can't be saved…and some days you'll have to focus on the fact that you're saving the world instead of focusing on every individual. Okay?"

Brittany lifted her head from Santana's shoulder, smiling weakly at the other woman. "Okay," Brittany said, sniffling. She wiped at her eyes furiously, and turned around to face the body. "We need to take her back to the surface. Her parents deserve that. Kurt and Rachel, too."

Santana nodded, and gathered Mercedes into her arms.

"Let's go."

It was past midnight when everyone had been rounded up. Kurt, Rachel, Brittany, Holly, Jacob, and Santana gathered around a large study table, where Mercedes rested underneath a white sheet. Kurt's eyes were red from tears, but anger adorned his face instead of sadness. Rachel was sobbing inconsolably, seemingly folding into herself. Brittany's tears had begun again, although only lightly. The others simply stared down at the body, solemn and sad. Silence reigned.

That silence was broken again by Kurt, whose anger got the better of him for a moment. Lashing out at anything, he picked up a globe and threw it against the wall. Everybody jumped at the sound of the impact. He turned back to the group, but his eyes found Santana's.

"I don't like vampires," he said coldly, gaze never leaving Santana's. "I'm gonna take a stand and say they're not good."

Santana held his gaze for a moment, guilt blooming within her. If only the kid knew how little even she liked herself, perhaps he wouldn't be so angry. After a moment, she looked down and took comfort in the golden hue of Brittany's hair.

Uncomfortable silence descended upon the group again, this time for several minutes. It was Brittany who spoke this time, "Should we just…put her in her bed, let her parents find her?"

Rachel emitted a wrenching wail. Everyone flinched. Kurt clenched his jaw and answered, "No. They'd never be able to understand what happened. No closure. There needs to be a reason, like…"

He trailed off, unable to finish or suggest a good cover story. For several seconds, nobody could.

"Like a car crash," sniffled Rachel, her hands gripping the arm rests of her chair in an effort to get out her suggestion without wailing again. "Mercedes just got her license. Her car is still at the Bronze."

"Yeah," Brittany said, nodding. "Yeah, that's a good idea, Rachel."

Rachel smiled wanly at Brittany before lowering her eyes to her lap again. "Alright," Brittany continued. "Santana and I will deal with this tonight before dawn, and-"

"No," interjected Kurt forcefully. "Absolutely not. Rachel and I were her best friends, the only people here who've known her for more than a day. If anyone is going to help you, Brittany, it's us."

Brittany caught Santana's eye, looking conflicted, but Santana gave a slight nod of agreement. Rachel and Kurt needed closure just as much as her family. It was only right. "Ok, Kurt. You, me, and Rachel."

They worked throughout the night, finishing up and orchestrating a "fiery, car crash" just before dawn. After they finished, they returned to the school just in time to fit in short naps before class began. Kurt and Rachel kept to themselves and kept silent, not difficult since they were generally ignored anyway, desperate not to draw any attention to their strange moods. At lunch, Holly updated them on the fact that the car crash had been found and her parents notified. None of the students were aware yet. There would be no announcement about the death. There never was.

After school, they all gathered again in the library to prepare for the Harvest, which was only a few short hours away. After much discussion they decided the vampires would go to the Bronze. They sharpened stakes, handed out Holy Water and crosses, and stressed that Santana and Brittany should do most of the fighting. The others would be equipped with crosses and holy water in order to repel and herd the vampires, and were to protect and evacuate any civilians endangered.

They departed a little before sunset, and were able to hide themselves and ambush the vampires as they approached the Bronze. Much to Brittany's ire, there was no sign of Lauren. The apparent leader of the group, and the Master's apparent vessel for the Harvest, was a tall, muscular, square-headed man who the others addressed as Luke. Jacob, Kurt, and Rachel surrounded the small cadre and held large wooden crosses aloft the keep them reigned in. Brittany and Santana, and Holly with a hand-held crossbow, were able to dispatch the corralled vamps like they were fish in a barrel.

Except for Luke. Luke, literally using another vampire as a shield, was able to escape their trap. He sprinted to the entrance of the club, stopping only to quickly feed on the bouncer. He raced inside, desperate to carry out his master's orders. He fed on the first person he came upon, then the second, then the third. There were no dramatics, no speeches; only death.

Brittany raced after him as soon as she dusted the last of his compatriots. When she found Luke in the Bronze he was lumbering towards Dave Karofsky, who was cowering on the ground. Brittany rolled her eyes and jumped on top of a pool table, launching herself onto Luke. They tumbled to the ground next to Karofsky, Luke face down with Brittany straddling his back.

Luke struggled beneath her, and might have succeeded in throwing her off, but Santana, who had been running a little bit behind Brittany, arrived and placed her booted foot on the back of his neck. "You might want to run," she said to Dave, who was staring up at her in wide-eyed shock. He nodded, scrambled to his feet, and scurried away. Santana grinned down at Brittany and handed her a fresh stake. "Finish this, baby."

Brittany lifted the weapon above her head and brought it down as hard as she could, plunging it into Luke's heart from behind. The beefy guy dusted beneath her. She stared up at Santana happily. "We make a pretty damn good team," she said with a bright smile.

The next day, to the surprise of the Kurt and Rachel, the entire event had been forgotten or explained away. Some, like Dave, went around telling people that the Bronze had been terrorized by Brittany and her boyfriend, a gang member high on PCP. Most seemed willing to accept this story and move on. Mercedes' accidental death was the big news, and Kurt and Rachel received many consolations. Later, when they asked Holly about the collective amnesia, she explained, "It's a coping mechanism. Most human beings have been trained that magic and monsters can't be real. Any evidence to the contrary is just…eliminated or altered. It takes a very strong mind, or very many encounters with the supernatural, to get past this defense."

Holly smiled warmly at the two teenagers and said, "That is why I am so very impressed by you two, and why I gladly welcome your help. It is remarkable that both of you have managed to retain your memories. With Brittany's protection, my guidance, and your help...I think the world might have a fighting chance in the immediate future."

The End (of Chapter 1)

A/N: Thank God I'm finished with that behemoth! I wrote this whole thing in a few days, and it ended up being the longest single chapter I've ever written. I've been revising it and splitting it into parts since. Anyways, that was the end of the Pilot of Buffy. Since it's the episode that sets up all the characters and brings everyone together, I followed it with far greater detail and fidelity than I plan to in the future. From here on out I'll be synthesizing the show in ways appropriate for the changes I've made, and I'll be condensing chunks of episodes as I see fit. For example, the next two episodes (at least) will be covered in the next chapter, which will consist of probably two parts. So, stay tuned next time (whenever that shall be…definitely a longer wait than there has been for the last few chapters…but worth it, I swear!) for **Witches, Bitches, and Virgin Sacrifice**!


	6. Witches, Bitches, and Virgin Sacrifice

A/N: I've ended up hitting a bit of a snag in regards to this chapter. I've begun to think that the wait, if I took as long as it looked like I was going to, probably wouldn't have been worth it. So I decided to go ahead and post Part 1 now instead of waiting until I'm finished with the entire chapter. I wouldn't say I'm blocked exactly, just facing some obstacles. First of all, this section of the source material is one of the more boring parts of the entire show. There's just no getting around that, so it's kind of tough to get through. Second of all, I'm having trouble with Kurt. He fills the Xander role, of course. But **so much** of Xander's character in the early seasons was all about his crush on Buffy. I'd say at least 90% of his lines and actions tie back into it at this juncture! Since that's no longer the case in regards to Kurt, I've struggled with ways to keep him in the story and to come up with interesting new avenues to take the character. But never fear! I shall persevere, and we shall continue onwards…eventually! So, without further hubbub:

**Witches, Bitches, and Virgin Sacrifice**

**Part 1**

1.

Brittany awoke to a pitch black room, enveloped in the arms of her lover. Each night after her uneventful patrol – there had been no supernatural activity since the Harvest- she had to decide whether to return to Santana or to return to the usually empty house of her mother. She had crashed at Santana's apartment five days in the past week. Santana's small, cozy space already felt more home-like to Brittany than their family's palatial estate in L.A. or the modest two-story house in Sunnydale her mother had purchased with the divorce settlement. Brittany sighed contentedly and snuggled closer against Santana.

Brittany pressed her palm against Santana's motionless chest, smiling. The first night they had slept together with actual sleeping involved, she had panicked upon awaking in Santana's bed. The Vampiress, when asleep, did not breathe, and for a few terrifying seconds Brittany had forgotten what Santana was. For a few seconds Brittany had believed she had lost her girlfriend. It didn't help that Santana was an extremely deep sleeper, and hadn't woken up immediately when Brittany had tried to shake her into consciousness. When the brunette had finally regained blinked awake, bleary-eyed, the blonde had nearly been in tears.

Now she liked the peculiarity of sleeping with Santana. She cherished the differences. She allowed her hand to wander from the other girl's chest down to her side and her hip. It was the side opposite Brittany, meaning it hadn't had the benefit of being pressed against Brittany's body all night. Consequently, it had returned to room temperature, or maybe a little above. She raised her face and placed a gentle kiss in the underside of Santana's jaw, and then rested her head against her chest.

She continued to caress Santana's flawless skin. Santana's body was nearly perfect, toned and soft in the ideal mixture. She was nearly as strong as Brittany, and yet supple and flexible in the extreme. And she was immortal. Brittany shuddered in exhilaration, imagining decades of being with Santana without her physically changing in the slightest.

Again, Brittany smiled. Closing her eyes, she settled in for another hour or so of sleep.

~8~

Rachel awoke when the light of dawn streamed through her pink curtains. She luxuriated for a moment in the cozy warmth of her comforter, but quickly bounced out of bed and hopped onto her elliptical. She hooked her iPod to her speakers and began to lunge to the rhythm of the music. Directly in front of her was a picture of a Grammy, the overarching goal of her entire life. Recently pinned underneath the Grammy facsimile was Finn Hudson's yearbook picture. Finn was her more immediate goal, but one she desired with equal fervor.

Today she would make her biggest move yet in furtherance of that goal. She was going to stoop to a level she never believed possible. She was going to do something she was certain would get Finn's attention. She was going to try out for the cheerleading squad.

~8~

Holly Holliday nudged open the door to her bedroom, carrying a glass of orange juice and a bowl of hot chicken broth intended for the sick and miserable man who was in her bed. Will Schuester had arrived at her door around three in the morning, desperate and sick and seeking asylum. She'd let him in, but before he could coherently explain what he was doing at her apartment he had passed out.

She placed the liquids on her bedside table and gently shook Will awake.

"Terri," he mumbled as he regained consciousness. He blinked his vision clear and startled when he saw Holly.

"Guess again," Holly said, frowning.

"Holly," he muttered.

"I didn't mean literally," she quipped, turning from the man. "I brought you juice," she said, handing him the chilled glass. She sat on the edge of her bed and asked, "So what's going on, Will?"

Will sipped at his juice in silence for a moment, surveying Holly. She avoided eye contact. She wasn't sure what was going on, and she didn't want to give him any window into her feelings until he had explained himself. "I'm sick," he said, finally.

Holly rolled her eyes. "Obviously," she said.

"With Mono," Will continued. "Terri kicked me out because she thinks it means I'm cheating on her."

"You are cheating on her," Holly pointed out neutrally.

"But that's not how I got Mono," Will countered.

Holly rolled her eyes again, and took the now empty glass from Will. She set it next to the steaming bowl of broth and carefully transferred that from the table to Will's lap. "Careful," she cautioned.

"Thanks for this, Holly," Will muttered, picking up a spoonful of the broth and blowing on it.

"You're welcome," the blonde muttered. "Are you going to try to come to work today, or will you call in?"

"I'll call in," Will answered after a moment of consideration.

"Alright," Holly said, sighing. "You can hang out here while I'm at work, but tonight you have to go home and make up with your wife."

"No," Will said, returning the spoon to the hot liquid. "I'm not going back. I've decided to leave her for good."

"Woah, woah, woah!" Holly exclaimed, jumping to her feet and holding out her hands. "I've only known you for a month, Will. I don't want you leaving your wife for me."

Will chuckled mirthlessly and said, "It's not for you…it's like the man said, 'Infidelity doesn't break up marriages; it's just a symptom of a larger problem'." Will looked up at Holly's wide, panicked eyes and said, "This has been a long time coming."

Holly blew out a relieved sigh and returned to her former position. Now that she had a better idea of what was going on, she allowed herself to establish eye-contact with Will. She smiled warmly at him and placed a reassuring hand on his forearm. "If you need to crash here for a few days, I think I can handle that."

Will returned Holly's smile and said, "Thanks, Holly. And…just so you know…after the divorce is settled, I would love to continue seeing you."

"We'll see," Holly said, giving his arm a squeeze before standing. "I'll get the phone so you can call in."

~8~

Kurt was awake nearly all night. Once again he had not been able to sleep, same as every night since the funeral. He moaned sadly and turned on his side, curling into a tighter ball. He bit his lip to keep the tears at bay. His eyes were already red from hours of crying.

He stared blankly ahead, eyes unfocused. It was Brittany's fault, he thought furiously. Anger raged inside him for a moment, a wave of wrath escalating exponentially with every second…until it broke. He emitted a frustrated sigh and shook his head. He knew it wasn't her fault. It just infuriated him how alone he felt.

His best friend was dead. His only friend. And now he was alone. It didn't make sense. It should have been him. If Mercedes hadn't been so protective of him she would probably still be alive. But, of course, she insisted on being her brave, beautiful self.

Now she was dead and he was left clinging to a virtual stranger and a girl he couldn't stand, and consorting with the same disgusting creatures that killed her.

2.

Brittany walked with Rachel into the gymnasium, and her jaw dropped. There were dozens of girls scattered around the room, dressed in varying degrees of skimpiness. Brittany's eyes widened at the sight of a busty brunette, only wearing a sports bra and the briefest shorts possible, drop down into a splits.

"I really missed cheerleading," she announced, dry-mouthed.

"Yes," Rachel answered obliviously. "It's a great team-building activity."

"Yeah," Brittany responded absently, licking her lips. "Teamwork is awesome."

Rachel finally noticed the tone of Brittany's voice and turned toward the taller blonde. She blushed at the sight of Brittany openly ogling other girls, and said, scandalized, "Brittany!"

Rachel's high-pitched exhortation broke Brittany's focus, causing her to turn toward the short girl with wide-eyes.

"You've got a little drool," Rachel said sardonically, pantomiming the action of wiping her lips. She sat down on the bleachers and watched the other girls warm up, wondering if she should too. She actually hadn't given this cheerleading thing a whole lot of thought. She thought that anyone who wanted to join could. She certainly hadn't expected to be competing against this many people.

Brittany hastily wiping her lips with the back of her hand, Brittany sat down beside Rachel and then began muttering under her breath, "I'm in a committed relationship, I'm in a committed relationship, I'm in a committed…"

"What!" Exclaimed Rachel. "You are? With who?"

Brittany looked at Rachel incredulously, "Um…Santana? Duh?"

"You're dating a vampire?" Rachel lowered her voice conspiratorially, "Is that…allowed?"

Brittany shrugged. "If it were some random soulless I picked up at the cemetery I could see why it would be frowned upon. But Santana is special. She's got a soul, and she's been sent to help and protect me."

"That's so romantic," Rachel said, placing a hand to her chest.

Brittany grinned in agreement for a moment, but it was soon replaced by a frown. "Still," she mused, "I should probably make sure Holly understands."

"She _might_ have an opinion on the matter," Rachel agreed. "She seemed very hesitant to trust Santana the other night"

Brittany frowned and said, "Which is weird, because she's usually so cool." Brittany sighed in annoyance. Turning to Rachel she said, "Alright, enough about me. You really think becoming a cheerleader is the way to Finn Hudson's heart?"

Rachel blushed and looked down. "Every girl he's dated since seventh grade has been a cheerleader. It's a prerequisite."

"Maybe you shouldn't try to be like all the other girls, Rach. Give him something new, you know?"

But Rachel wasn't listening to Brittany anymore. Her eyes were locked on a figure a few yards away, dressed brightly in the upbeat blue and gold of the school colors. Her hair was pulled up into pigtails. Rachel's mouth hung open in surprise and she exclaimed, "TINA!"

The Asian girl's head whipped around to find the source of the voice. She peered at Rachel for a moment, seemingly not recognizing her, until a bright smile graced her face and she responded, "Rachel Berry! I haven't seen you in…ages."

Rachel stood and made her way over to the other girl, wrapping her in a tight hug. Brittany noticed that Tina looked extremely uncomfortable in Rachel's embrace. Brittany began to make her way over to the two, an uneasy feeling filling her. When they separated the smile was plastered back on Tina's face, causing Brittany's uneasiness to increase.

"You look so…different," Rachel commented. Noticing Brittany come up beside her, Rachel introduced her. "Tina, this is Brittany. Brittany, this is Tina…an old friend."

"Nice to meet you," Brittany said, trying to sound genuine.

"You too," Tina responded.

There was a brief moment of silence, which Rachel broke nervously, "Tina, you're trying out for cheerleading? I never would have expected that."

Tina raised an eyebrow and pointed out, "I could say the same for you."

"That's…true," Rachel admitted, blushing. Rachel exchanged glances with Brittany, admitting, "I really can't believe I'm here, actually. This is the last thing I ever thought I'd do."

"There's nothing wrong with changing," Tina announced. "Personally, I think this is a change for the better. I used to be so…boring and anti-social. Always dressed in depressing black. That was before I started listening to my mother."

"Your…mother?" Asked Brittany, hesitantly. What teenage girl voluntarily listened to their mother?

"Absolutely!" Exclaimed Tina enthusiastically. "We've been working together nearly six hours a day for the past year. That's why I had to be homeschooled: to make more time for practice."

Rachel and Brittany gaped at Tina, astonished. They would have continued questioning the other girl, but their conversation was cut off by the first person to try out, an immensely talented girl named Amber. Amber was considered to be the frontrunner for making the team. About halfway through her routine, however, smoke began to emanate from her body. Soon her hands had caught on fire. The girls in the stands gasped in shock. Brittany sprung into action, grabbing a banner and using it to put out Amber's hands.

~8~

"She caught on fire?" Asked Holly, surprised. "That's…unusual."

"Understatement," Brittany said. "I've seen some crazy ass things, but this…uber-crazy."

"And most likely not related to demonic forces."

"Not?"

"Correct. This could have been a natural phenomenon. Spontaneous combustion is rare, but not unheard of. Or it could be the product of witchcraft."

"Witchcraft?' Asked Brittany, gulping. Not many things wigged Brittany, but the idea of Witchcraft was one of them. Vampires, demons, even people she could fight. Witchcraft was just some intangible force that could arbitrarily and invisibly attack.

Holly nodded in affirmation and asked, "Was there anyone around who was acting suspiciously?"

Brittany and Rachel exchanged glances.

"I know she's your friend…" Brittany began hesitantly.

"She _was_ my friend," Rachel corrected. "She used to be really cool and very interesting. She had this punk/goth style that was totally unique at Sunnydale. Last year she started being homeschooled. And now…I barely recognized her. She's like a pod person!"

"She _was_…creepily enthusiastic about making the squad," Brittany said. "And I kept getting this…odd feeling from her."

Holly surveyed the girls with raised eyebrows and asked incredulously, "Are you suggesting that a girl has turned to the dark arts…in order to become a cheerleader?"

Rachel nodded, "Amber, the girl who caught fire, was easily the most talented athlete present. If Tina is bumping off her competition, that's where she'd start."

Holly held up a hand to stop the discussion. "Let's not burn Tina at the stake just yet. We need solid proof before we do anything."

"Like a witch test," Rachel asked, snorting in amusement.

Holly gave her a bemused stare and said, "Exactly. There are several we can choose from. I imagine you'll want me to avoid the ones calling for urine of the witch."

Both girls gagged, causing Holly to burst into laughter.

~8~

They found a witch test, and came up with a plan for the next day. That night, Brittany was patrolling when she received a call from Kurt.

"I'm about to be eaten by a giant insect," he said hurriedly as soon as Brittany answered.

"Um," uttered Brittany, flummoxed. That wasn't exactly something you heard every day, even in her line of work. Speaking of her line of work: "Where are you? I'll come as quickly as possible."

Once she received her answer, Brittany sprinted in the direction of her imperiled friend. After running for nearly a mile she kicked in the door to an inconspicuous residential home and rushed downstairs to the basement, from where grunts and terrified squeals were emanating. She arrived to find Kurt being held aloft, his neck trapped in a giant pincher. Hearing her arrival, the insectoid snapped it's head entirely around and let out a screech of frustration. It threw Kurt to the ground and advanced toward Brittany. She wasn't exactly sure what weak spots to go for – fighting a giant bug was a new experience for her – but she improvised and managed to defeat the beast within a few minutes.

Afterwards she turned to Kurt, who was still on the ground, and helped him to his feet. "You okay?" she asked gently.

"Yeah," he muttered, blushing at having to be saved once again. He glared at the ground, then turned his attention to the cage where he had been locked up in for several hours. "Just glad to get out of the cage and out of this alive."

His attention then turned to the second cage, where a terrified-looking Dave Karofsky cowered. "I suppose we have to let him out…"

"Yeah," Brittany affirmed. She walked over to the cage and crouched in front of it. "Alright Dave," she said forthrightly, "do you happen to know where the key to this thing is?"

Karofsky shook his head, staring at Brittany in fear. Brittany sighed, and then set to work breaking the steel lock of the cage manually. "You owe me so big," she muttered as she worked. "How did this happen?" She asked Kurt, looking for some sort of distraction.

"Mr. Schue was out sick today," Kurt began. "And his substitute was…very handsome." Kurt paused to glare at Karofsky, saying, "That jackass over there was making fun of me last night for being a virgin, so I guess I just wanted to prove something to myself. I asked Mr. Pritchett if he could help me with some vocal work after school. One thing led to another, and then I was in a cage."

Brittany had just about broken open the cage. "How'd you get here?" She asked Dave curiously.

"I was walking to the Bronze," Dave began nervously, "to meet a girl…when I got attacked out of nowhere."

"Bullshit!" Kurt interrupted with a snort. He smirked maliciously. "I know exactly why you're here," he continued, taking pleasure from the panicked look on Dave's face. "Before he shoved me in the cage, Pritchett told me he only feeds on virgins. You're secret's out, poser!"

Dave exhaled shakily and grimaced. "Yeah, Hummel, you got me. I'm a virgin."

Kurt cackled spitefully, crowing about how he was going to tell the entire school the next day. He didn't notice the look of relief that passed over the other boy's face. Brittany did, and she raised her eyebrow curiously. Deciding to file that away for later, she finally pulled the cage door open and announced, "You're a free man, Dave. From here, you're on your own."

Brittany wrapped an arm around Kurt's slender shoulder and led him up the stairs. "C'mon, Kurt. Let's get you home."

To Be Continued…


	7. Witches, Bitches, and Virgin Sacrifice 2

Witches, Bitches, and Virgin Sacrifice

Part II

~8~

Two days later, as Brittany approached the library before class, she heard angry screaming. With a burst of speed, she crashed through the library double doors to see what was causing the commotion. She found a furious Rachel being restrained by a shocked Holly. Rachel's anger was directed at a bored looking Kurt.

"Harlot," Rachel shouted, futilely reaching toward Kurt in an attempt to lay hands on him. "Betrayer!"

Kurt rolled his eyes, inspecting his nails. "Oh please," he said dismissively. "There was nothing to betray. The only place you mean anything to Finn is in your delusional mind."

"You know I like him!"

"Yeah, I do," Kurt said. He smirked viscously and continued, "That made the kiss much better."

Holly, who had relaxed her grip slightly as the two teens spoke, had to renew it twofold in order to restrain Rachel this time. The brunette spluttered in fury.

Kurt rolled his eyes again and turned away from Rachel, catching sight of Brittany for the first time. His eyes lit up. He stalked towards her predatorily, that same smirk playing at his lips. "Well, if it isn't Brittany the Vampire Layer," he sneered.

He paused momentarily, awaiting a reaction. Brittany's face scrunched up in confusion for a moment, and then with a delighted "Oh!" she began giggling. "I get it," she said, guffawing. "That's pretty good, Kurt. Not great, sure…but good. When you can't think of anything really funny, puns are always a good way to go."

Kurt scowled and turned away from Brittany, stomping towards the door. Once he wasn't looking at her, Brittany rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath, "Amateur."

Whatever bug had crawled up Kurt's ass that morning (or last night, apparently), he was still no match for Brittany when it came to verbal jousting. She used to skewer girls like they were kebabs, and she was a pro when it came to allowing insults to roll off her back in order to infuriate the insulter.

Kurt pushed open to door violently, only to find Finn Hudson just outside the library. "Back for more?" Kurt teased.

Finn stuttered uncomfortably. "Kurt…about last night…we need to talk. I think you're a cool guy and all, but I'm not-"

But Kurt's gaze had moved beyond Finn, and what he saw caused his eyes to narrow and his complexion to redden in anger. He cut the other boy off, saying, "Don't worry your tiny little brain about it, Finn. I'm done with you."

He pushed past Finn and out of sight. Finn dazedly entered the library, shaking his head.

Rachel, whose anger had her on the verge of tears, instantly changed her disposition. Suddenly she was sunny and smiling, although she didn't say anything to the object of her affection.

Finn stood awkwardly in the middle of the library, shifting uncomfortably under the gazes of the three females. He rubbed the back of his neck. Finally Holly took pity on him and asked, "Is there anything I can help you with?"

"Uh, yeah," Finn said falteringly. "I need a copy of _Leaves of Grass_."

"Coming right up," Holly said cheerily. She weaved around the chairs and tables and made her way into the stacks. With the adult gone, the three teens were left to silently regard each other. It was Brittany who broke the silence.

"Hi Finn," she said. "How are you doing today?"

His gaze, which had been on Rachel, turned to Brittany. He smiled and said, "Oh, hi, um…Brenda?"

"Brittany," she corrected.

"Right, Brittany," he amended. "I'm fine," he finished absently. He was already looking at Rachel again. "Hi, Rachel," he called.

Rachel's eyes widened in shock and instantly flew to the ground. "H-hi, Finn," she stuttered, red-faced. She absently fixed her hair, pushing it behind her ear.

Finn took a step toward her, past Brittany, and said effusively, "You know, I've always wanted to tell you that I thought you were great as Tzeitel in the school play."

Rachel furtively glanced up at the boy, but only for a moment. "That was in sixth grade," she said to the floor.

"Yeah, I guess I should have said something before this" said Finn, a small frown forming. He brightened up quickly, saying, "Still…I just wanted to say that I think you have a beautiful voice. Better than most of the people on the radio."

Rachel was beyond words at this point, blushing so red that she seemed to glow. She was saved from having to answer by the return of Holly, carrying two books. "I have the first edition and the Deathbed edition, which do you want?"

"Um…Mrs. Williams didn't say. Both, I guess?"

"Alrighty," Holly said, quickly checking the books out and handing them to Finn.

Without any other reason for hanging around, Finn raised his hand in goodbye and departed. "Thanks, Ms. Holliday! Bye, Rachel! Bye, Brenda."

Once he was gone Rachel muttered, "Oh my God, that was so embarrassing!"

"Embarrassing?" Exclaimed Brittany. "Girl, that boy is totally into you! He couldn't take his eyes off you! He didn't even remember my name."

Rachel rolled her eyes, thinking that her friend was messing with her. "Yeah right, Brittany. You're delusional. He's probably barely even noticed me since sixth grade, which is why the only thing he could say to me came from then. He was probably surprised that I was still going to this school."

Brittany rolled her eyes in return, and chuckled ruefully. She didn't agree with Rachel, but she let the subject drop. They discussed the previous day's Witch Test, which had conclusively proven that Tina was performing Witchcraft. They discussed their next move, which they agreed was to talk to the mother who had pulled Tina out of school and inculcated in her daughter such a burning desire to be a cheerleader that the poor girl had turned to the Dark Arts.

~8~

Several hours later, in the middle of chemistry, Brittany began to feel strange. Just as her ears pricked up at a conversation about Kurt and a confrontation with Dave Karofsky earlier that morning a feeling of despair, doom, and hopelessness washed over her, followed by fury. Suddenly angry and depressed, Brittany sullenly stared ahead as her teacher prattled on about the natural acidity of water. The fury grew; her teacher's voice began to be drowned out by the roaring in her ears. A vision of her teacher flashed before her eyes. Brittany's hands were wrapped around the woman's throat, her eyes bugging out in fear and panic.

Brittany took a deep breath. Something was obviously wrong. Brittany had never felt this angry, or even this depressed. And there was no cause or reason for it…absolutely none. She thought back to earlier this morning, to Kurt's attitude. Maybe this was connected? Maybe there was something wrong with him too? Maybe his bastardry was contagious?

She shook her head, concentrating on her breathing. Too many maybes. She didn't need to figure out what was going on, she just needed to get to Holly before she did something she would regret. Another vision, this of an entire room full of corpses with her standing in the center of them covered in blood, flashed through her mind. She desperately cast her mind back to the lessons she had been learning from Holly about attacks on her mind.

"The first thing a Watcher learns is to distinguish truth from illusion," Holly told her. "It's my belief that you need to learn how to deal with an attack on the mind as well. First lesson: in mental fights, just as in physical ones, try to use an attack to your advantage."

Brittany gripped the edge of her table, nearly leaving indents in the faux wood. She didn't need to control her emotions…just parry them. She couldn't stamp down her anger…only use it. Whoever was attacking her was obviously trying to make her lose control and attack someone...that couldn't happen. Concentrating with all her might, directed her anger not at her teacher but at the class in general. Then she sat back and let the anger take its course.

Within a few seconds, she was seething at the fact that she, a Slayer, was forced to endure fifty minutes of pointless chemistry when she could be training or researching…or fucking Santana. She knew the score. She knew that Slayers didn't live very long. Why on earth was she wasting her time with school?

With a growl she stood up and stalked toward the exit. "Ms. Pierce, what do you think you're doing?"

"I'm leaving this boring ass class," she exclaimed, pulling open the door. "What does it look like?"

The teacher balked at being spoken to in such a manner. "Sit down right now," she shouted shrilly.

Brittany, half out the door already, turned back to glare at the woman. "Go fuck a unicorn's horn," she growled before stalking outside and slamming the door.

Once in the relative safety of the hallway, she took deep gulping breaths and steadied herself against the nearest locker. Fighting this mental attacker was more physically draining than any actual fight she'd ever been in. After gaining a little composure, she stumbled off in the direction of the library.

She burst into the library, frantically calling for her Watcher. The older blonde rushed out of her office, took Brittany into her arms and led her to the nearest chair. Brittany filled her in on what she thought the situation was all in one breath, trying to get it out before anything else could take control of her mind.

Holly considered the situation for a moment. "It seems that Tina is onto us," she said solemnly. It was the only explanation that made sense. "Was she at school today?"

Brittany shrugged, resting her heated face against the cool surface of the table. Holly stroked Brittany's hair, frowning as she felt her Slayer's heated brow. It occurred to her that this might be more than just a mental attack. She stood up with resolve. "I think it's time I visit Ms. Cohen-Chang at her home."

She went into her office for several minutes, gathering supplies. While she was gone, Brittany's mood shifted from anger and fear to deep depression. When she exited her office, Brittany was hugging the tabletop, sobbing and wailing, "Daddy left because I was bad!"

Holly's eyes widened in concern. She went over to the crying girl, got her on her feet, and led her to the small cot she kept in her office. As they walked she whispered soothing words into Brittany's ear, trying to bring up the girl's attitude. She got Brittany to lie down, and tucked her in, once again stroking her hair affectionately.

"Get some rest, Britt," she said, smiling encouragingly. "I'll be back soon…once I find Tina or her spell book I should be able to get you back to normal."

Brittany, whose fatigue already had her on the edge of consciousness, nuzzled into Holly's hand and drifted fully to sleep.

~8~

While Brittany was passed out, Holly was busy. She visited the Cohen-Chang residence, found out that Tina's mother was the real witch and that she had been using the Dark Arts to swap bodies with her teenage daughter. The very thought was horrifying to Holly, and her fury at the woman who was only a few years older than herself roared to life. How could a mother do this to her own daughter? What kind of adult woman was that stuck in her teenage years?

With the consciousness of Tina and the body of her mother along, she returned to the school to plan her attack. There was a pep rally that day, so she knew where Tina's mother would be at that point. That seemed like the best place to make her move. She briefly considered waking Brittany, but decided against it. Brittany's fever had only increased, and waking her now might do more damage than good. Besides, this was going to be a fight of magic not of fists. Holly felt more than capable.

And she was! A few hours later she managed to put Tina back into her own body, and then defeated her mother by turning one of her own spells back at her. The older, psychotic woman was sent to places unknown (but, according to the witch, horrible), and Tina collapsed into Holly's arms in gratitude. She comforted the girl, leading her back to the library.

When they arrived, a confused looking Brittany wandered out of her office. Holly got Tina settled then turned to Brittany. "How are you feeling?"

Brittany rubbed her eyes sleepily and muttered, "Good? What happened? Why is Tina here?"

Brittany listened as Holly explained about the magical attack on her mind, which had caused her body to become sick, and what Holly had been up to while Brittany had been passed out. When she finished she indicated Tina, who was still sitting in quiet shock, and muttered, "Could you give us a few minutes alone, Brittany?"

Brittany left quickly and began wandering the halls. The pep rally had been at the end of the day, and Holly's fight had lasted nearly an hour, so the school had mostly cleared out. After nodding silently to a couple of people, Brittany began to realize how hungry she was and decided to grab something from a vending machine. She turned and headed in the direction of the cafeteria.

On her way there she passed the gym. She stopped in her tracks when she heard the sound of struggling from inside, and ran inside when she heard a choked, "Help!"

What she saw shocked her to her core and stopped her in her tracks.

Dave Karofsky was sprawled on his back on the floor, his hands raised defensively. Kurt was straddling him, raining down blows with his fists. Dave's face was already bruised and bloody, and Kurt seemed to have no intention to stop. A look of pure malice and enjoyment was etched on his face.

Brittany allowed herself to be stunned only for a moment before she sprung into action. She didn't have to understand the surreal scene in front of her, only stop it. Sprinting across the gymnasium court she grabbed Kurt by the back of the shirt and lifted him off Dave. "What the hell, Hummel!"

Instead of answering her with words, Kurt answered with a punch to the face. The impact sent Brittany sprawling to the floor, although more from shock than injury. While it wasn't the hardest hit she'd ever taken, the fact that she had even been able to feel a blow from Kurt Hummel caught her by surprise. She reached up to touch where she had been hit, her eyes widening when her fingers came away with blood on them.

She stared up at the boy, scowling at the smug grin he was sporting. He wiped his fist clean on the front of his shirt and turned his attention back to Dave, who had used the distraction to begin scrambling away. "We're not finished, Karofsky."

Brittany rolled her eyes. If that arrogant bastard thought that one punch was enough to take the fight out of Brittany S. Pierce, he was…well…an idiot. She leapt to her feet, closed the distance between them with long strides, reared back and punched Kurt in the back of the neck. He boy let out a surprised squawk before collapsing to the ground, unconscious.

She blew out a relieved breath, glad that the fight could be ended quickly. Gathering up the unconscious body and slinging it over her shoulder, she said, "Dave, you better come with me."

Karofsky hesitated momentarily, eyeing Brittany suspiciously. Rolling her eyes, she said, "C'mon, we'll get you cleaned up."

After another second of hesitation, Dave leveraged himself to his feet and followed Brittany out of the gymnasium.

When they arrived back at the library, Rachel had joined the fun. When she saw everyone, bloody and bruised, she brought her hands to her mouth in surprise and exclaimed, "Ohmigod, what happened!" She turned to Karofsky and furiously demanded, "What did you do?"

"Down girl," Brittany said laughingly. "Dave's innocent this time. I think Kurt's possessed or something. I found him beating the holy hell out of Dave in the gym. Add that to this morning…and last night…and the fact that he's suddenly strong enough to make me bleed…" Brittany shrugged, and lugged Kurt's unconscious form to the book cage. She laid him down on the ground, shut the door, and locked the cage.

"Where have you been, anyway?" Brittany asked, nodding at Rachel.

"I realized that you were completely right about me and Finn," Rachel said excitedly. "It would be a mistake to give him what every other girl has given him. So I've decided drop the cheerleader idea and instead to sing a song for him at the talent show! I've spent all afternoon narrowing down the possibilities."

Brittany smiled supportively. "So what's it gonna be?"

Rachel stared at Brittany as if she'd grown a second head, saying, "I've only had one afternoon, Brittany. The process has hardly begun!"

"Why is Kurt in a cage?" Came the curious voice of Holly Holliday from behind the two girls.

Brittany turned around and succinctly answered, "I found Kurt beating up Karofsky. He's possessed and has super-strength. That's why he was so bitchy earlier."

"Oh Kurt," Holly said, sighing. She couldn't help but laugh a little. "We'll take him from here, Brittany. You should probably go home and get some rest. You've had a long day yourself. I'll figure out what's taken over Kurt."

Brittany shrugged. She was wide awake. Fighting Kurt had dispelled any lingering fatigue. Instead of arguing, however, she decided to grab a bite to eat and maybe go for a patrol.

~8~

A few hours later, after the sun had set, Brittany was slowly making her way though one of Sunnydale's thirteen cemeteries. She hadn't come upon any demons yet, to her disappointment. That changed suddenly when she felt the cold chill which indicated a soulless vampire. Her eyes narrowed, her heart slowed, and she silently stalked towards it.

Rounding a corner, her eyes widened in shock at the sight that met her and she emitted a small gasp of…as much as she hated to admit it…fear. The gasp alerted the demon, who whipped her head up and away from the dying woman she was feeding on.

"Oh, it's you," Lauren said calmly, smiling.

Brittany made a move to attack Lauren and save the person she was drinking from, but Lauren quickly snapped her victim's neck to halt that action. "Don't even think about it," she warned.

Brittany scowled in anger, but ceased her forward motion. There was no point now; at best all she could accomplish was a brutal stalemate like last time and at worst she could end up dead.

Lauren smirked and let the body fall to the ground. She leaned back against a headstone and surveyed the blonde. "You're looking kind of haggard, dear. Rough day?" Lauren paused for a moment, her smirk becoming vicious. "Get anymore of your friends killed?"

A look of pure fury crossed Brittany's face, causing Lauren to cackle with glee. Brittany took a calming breath before firing back, "You're looking better than I expected. I wouldn't say good, of course, but…"

Lauren smirked, the insult not affecting her. She caressed the side of her face which not too long ago had been a mess of blood and bone and said, "The perks of being undead."

In an abrupt change of topic, Lauren asked, "So how's my dear friend Satana?"

"Santana is fine," Brittany said with gritted teeth. "And I wouldn't talk about her if I were you."

Lauren rolled her eyes at the empty insult. "Has she been a good little doggie for you? Does she heel? Roll over?" Lauren raised an eyebrow, her smirk widening into a grin, "Play dead?"

"I said shut up about her," Brittany exclaimed. "She's-"

"She's pathetic," Lauren interrupted her vehemently. "It makes me sick to think of something I created being used for good."

Now Brittany smirked. "Aww, is poor Lauren a sad panda?"

Lauren's eyes hardened with hatred. "Don't be too smug, little girl. No amount of good will ever make up for the atrocities she committed. We were known as the Scourge of Europe. We killed thousands with joy in our hearts. And Satana? She was the most vicious of all of us. The most vicious, sadistic creature I've ever met. Hurting people…breaking people…was an art for her." She pushed herself off the headstone, smirking again. Her mood restored by the gutted look on Brittany's face, she chuckled and started walking backwards. "You just think about that, girlie. You just think about whose bed you're sharing."

After Lauren disappeared into the night, Brittany tried to continue her patrol. But her mind was distracted, and after an hour she decided to give up and get some of the rest that Holly had recommended. She exited the cemetery and headed to the library, finding Holly alone and researching. She enquired about Kurt.

"Oh he's fine," said Holly bemusedly, "he was apparently possessed yesterday at the zoo…by a Hyena spirit."

Brittany couldn't help laugh a little bit. "That kid and his shenanigans," she said, smiling.

Soon afterwards she said goodbye to her Watcher. Once outside she paused. The same question that had nightly faced her: her mother's house or Santana's apartment?

Back in the library, Holly Holliday poured herself another cup of coffee and returned to a table full of books. She had resolved to spend several more hours each night researching. The level of supernatural activity had exploded recently, and she needed to be prepared.

Across town Rachel Berry was sitting on her bed with a pile of CDs and a notebook. She surveyed the page she was on with satisfaction… she had narrowed her list of possible songs down to fifty. She was imagining the flattered and bashful look on Finn's face when she serenaded him.

About a mile away from Rachel, Kurt Hummel lay despondently in his bed. After another day of humiliation, fear, and danger he expected another night of sleepless sadness. He was staring mournfully at a picture of he and Mercedes.

Back in front of Sunnydale High School, Lauren's words passed, uninvited, through Brittany's mind. She took a deep breath and, for the first time in nearly a week, headed for a night of sleep somewhere besides Santana's arms.

End Chapter 2

A/N: Whew! Finally! Thanks for your patience, everyone. I hope this was enjoyable, despite the long wait. Stay tuned next time for a deeper look at **Santana!**


	8. Santana

**Santana**

When Santana woke she immediately reached out, looking for Brittany. Finding only a cold, empty bed she let out a sigh and shook her head. It was amazing how quickly one could become used to something, and how resistant to change one could be as well. Santana had spent nearly a century on her own, living a solitary, isolated existence. Almost every night of that time she had slept alone, whether in beds, in caves, or on the streets. Yet after only a handful of nights with Brittany, having the young Slayer in her bed and in her arms seemed the natural order of things.

It had been two weeks since Brittany had stopped spending her nights with the dark-haired vampire, nearly thrice the amount of time that Brittany had actually spent the night, but Santana still woke expecting Brittany to be with her. The girl had utterly and irrevocably changed Santana's life. Santana knew this, accepted it. She could only hope that whatever had caused the blonde to pull away could be overcome. She had faced a century alone, but that was before Brittany. She had been alone before…now she faced loneliness.

Santana sighed again and pushed herself out of bed. She didn't have far to go, however, only slouching into the adjacent room and flinging herself into the deep-cushioned reading chair that abutted the similarly comfy couch in her and Jacob's living room. The apartment was silent. This was a quality she used to welcome, but now it seemed depressing. She had become used to, even appreciative of, the sounds and signs of life surrounding her. She longed for the lilting sound of Brittany's laughter, or the sounds of her constant movement. Even without Brittany around, Jacob's unceasing chatter usually filled the silence. Her fellow demon had changed her life as well. He had pulled her out of a never-ending downward spiral, had given her hope and a purpose. He had given her the opportunity to be a real person, to connect with humanity. He had given her friendship, something she had never really experienced (even when she had been alive). His constant insistence to take nothing seriously, especially not himself and definitely not her, might even result in a sense of humor in her one day.

But Jacob was gone too. He had to go out of town for an unknown amount of time, meeting with The Powers That Be and carrying out a mission for them. Although he constantly self-deprecated, Jacob was actually an incredibly important part of the order of the universe. He was a Balance Demon, tasked with keeping equilibrium between Good and Evil. While he wasn't the only such creature in existence, he was one of very few. And he was a chief confidante of the God-like beings he referred to as The Powers That Be. Whenever Evil made a move for dominance, Jacob was consulted. Santana, and even Brittany, played but small parts in an unimaginably complex cosmic drama.

Santana heaved a sigh and sunk lover into her chair. She steepled her fingers in front of her face and stared blankly past them. She contemplated her present life, which led her to contemplate her past life. She brooded, in other words.

~8~

_**New Orleans, 1769**_

_In only a few places in the world would a free girl be the product of a Spanish man marrying a woman with black and German parents. In only one place would that girl speak French. New Orleans in 1769 was a confused, struggling place. A French colony that Frenchman refused to habitate, saved from total collapse by the settlement of Germans and free blacks from the West Indies who adopted French culture. At the beginning of the decade it had been controlled by the French, for several years it had been controlled by the Spanish, and now it was apparently in the control of the British. _

_Not that any of the inhabitants really noticed or cared. New Orleans was a place many people visited or passed through but where few lived. And those that did live there lived by their own rules, not those of some governor – whatever his nationality. It was a place unlike any in North America, a place where everyone acted French and spoke French but hardly anyone actually was French. A place where wealthy blacks from the West Indies owned plantations and slaves. A place where every white man had two wives – one white and one of mixed blood. It was where Santana Lopez had spent her entire life, and, as far as she could tell, would spend her entire life. She wished to escape, but knew that anywhere else in the civilized world she'd just be another octoroon slave. _

_Her race wasn't even her main issue, though. What set her apart from everyone else was, thankfully, nothing that could be seen with the naked eye. It was hidden, known only to her…and to a few of the traveling wives of aristocrats. For years the 19 year-old had kept her attraction to women, and only women, a secret. But certain expectations of her were threatening to make her future difficult. At nearly twenty she was already very old to be unmarried, especially considering her tremendous beauty. Her father, who was putting on more and more pressure, liked to point out that as a mixed-blood she had twice the options of other girls. She could marry a free black or be the second wife of a white man. Both were valid, respectable options, and there had been many offers…but Santana just couldn't bring herself to accept. People were talking, however, so she knew she'd better make herself accept soon…or join the convent._

_She heaved a sigh of frustration as she left the preparation area of her father's tavern and moved into the public area with two steins of beer. Like most nights the majority of the clientele were lustful sailors and merchants, only in town for a night or two. Most usually assumed she was a whore. She often had to set them straight with cutting word, and sometimes a slap to the back of the head. She set the drinks down on the table and turned before she could be engaged in conversation. But she caught sight of something which made her freeze in place. The door was open, and standing in the doorway was a woman._

_It was rare, but not unheard of, for a woman to visit the tavern with her husband, son, or brother. But this woman was alone. She strolled further into the room, pulling the door shut behind her. She surveyed the occupants coolly, exuding confidence and power. This woman was unlike any Santana had ever seen. Even the wealthiest of female aristocrats, or the most brazen of whores, still endeavored somewhat to seem meek and inferior. _

_This woman, who was perhaps the largest person Santana had ever seen, came closer to her and sat at an empty table. Her weight and paleness were signs of great wealth, signaling that this woman had no need to work and had never known a lack of leisure or food. Santana had once seen a portrait of the English King, Henry. He was the only person she could think of who matched this woman in size. The confidence…the power…the signs of wealth…could this woman possibly be some sort of royalty?_

_Santana shook her head, banishing such thoughts. She walked over to the woman and asked, in French, "What can I get for you?"_

_The woman grinned and slowly said, "For now…wine."_

_Santana hurried to fill the woman's request and when she returned the woman said pleasantly, "Thank you, young lady. My name is Lauren."_

"_Santana."_

"_You are very beautiful," Lauren said before Santana could leave._

_The teenager blushed and lowered her eyes, murmuring, "Thank you." She had never been complimented in public by another woman before…not like this. It caused a thrill of excitement to shoot through her. Again, this woman – Lauren – flouted convention. _

"_Very exotic," Lauren continued, her eyes carefully studying Santana's face. "Where I'm from, there was little diversity."_

"_Where are you from?" Asked Santana, her mouth becoming dry._

"_Massachusetts originally, a little town there much like a hundred other little towns there. I have not been there in years, however."_

"_You've been…traveling?" The very thought was intoxicating to Santana._

"_Oh yes," Lauren said, leaning forward and gazing into Santana's eyes. "Incessantly." _

"_You must be very wealthy," Santana whispered, unable to break eye-contact with the other woman._

"_Money isn't something I have to worry about," Lauren answered with a chuckle. _

_Their moment was broken by the drunken hailing of one of the sailors. "Oi! Wench!" He was speaking in English, but Santana had no trouble understanding his words. Due to the cosmopolitan nature of the town, as well as her own complex heritage, Santana was fluent in French, German, Spanish, and English as well as knowing bits and pieces of several other languages, including some African ones. _

_Santana jerked back up to a standing position, with an apologetic smile and said, "I'm sorry, I have to help him."_

_Lauren shrugged casually and replied, "That's perfectly all right, Santana. I'll be here."_

_Santana remained pretty busy as business picked up as closing time approached. Throughout the rest the night she felt Lauren's eyes on her, causing a full-body flush. At midnight she shooed the last customer besides Lauren out of the tavern. When he was gone she awkwardly approached the woman and said, "Um…I have to close now. You have to go…unless…" Santana gulped._

_Lauren smirked. "Unless I buy a room. That was my plan from the beginning, my dear. I was just…enjoying the atmosphere."_

"_Oh, okay then…"_

"_How about you show me to my room?"_

"_Yeah…" Santana nodded and motioned for Lauren to follow her. They climbed a flight of stairs and went down a hallway. "I'll put you at the end. You'll have a little more privacy that way."_

_Lauren nodded and followed for a moment more. As they approached the door Lauren said, "Earlier…your eyes lit up when I spoke of my travels."_

_Santana stopped with her hand on the doorknob. "Yeah," she said wistfully. "I've always wanted to see some of the places I hear about from my customers." She sighed. "But I can't."_

"_Why not?"_

"_A million reasons," she said with a shrug, evading the question. _

_Lauren stared intently at the girl. "What if I said I'd take you with me?"_

_Santana's head jerked up in shock and she gazed for a moment at Lauren with wide yes. She lowered her head again, swallowing nervously. "What…what would I have to do?"_

_Lauren chuckled and reached forward, covering Santana's hand, turning the knob and pushing the door open. "Does it really matter?"_

_Santana stared through threshold into the dark, empty room. She hesitated only for a moment, Lauren's question echoing in her mind. Does it really matter? Meaning: is there anything you wouldn't do to escape this place with a powerful, wealthy female protector?_

"_No," she whispered, stepping forward and walking into the room. Lauren followed suit, closing the door behind her, blocking out all of the light from the hallway. "I…I can't see anything."_

"_Good," responded a voice. It was Lauren's…but harsher, colder. The next moment she was assaulted by a tremendous, piercing pain at her neck. She felt herself being pressed against Lauren's soft body, heard her breathing frantically. Then she lost consciousness. _

_Two days later the demon Satana awoke and had to claw out of a fresh grave._

~8~

When her alarm went off at 630am, Brittany was already awake. She had been awake all night. Every time she closed her eyes horrific images assaulted her. Images of death and torture and blood. Images of the carnage the vampiress Satana had wrought across five continents.

Brittany sighed and rolled out of bed. She walked into the bathroom and entered the shower. As the water washed over her, Brittany went over the past two weeks in her head. For a week Lauren's words had haunted her. Every time she looked at the woman she loved she heard the demon's voice. Finally she decided to do something about it. Hiding from what Lauren accused, pretending nothing was wrong, was not the answer. She decided that she needed the facts. She needed to know exactly what her lover had done. She thought that the truth had to be less ghastly than her imagination.

She was wrong.

Rachel was busy with her plans for serenading Finn so, knowing it was a mistake, she turned to Kurt. He readily agreed. They were soon spending every free moment combing through Holly's library and the Watchers' Diaries for any mention of the vampiress Satana. They began at the beginning: 1769. Reports of murders in New Orleans. Dozens dead, beginning with the owner of a local tavern/inn and his daughter. From there the plague of death spread, and it was given a name: Satana.

The plague, the demon, the vampire- whatever you wanted to call it- contained cruelty matched only by Satan himself. The Watchers of the time spoke of her with a mixture of awe and horror. This demon killed for pleasure as much as for food. She was a master of torture, she was a pure sadist. After reading an account from one of the very few to escape alive from Satana, Brittany literally became sick.

Brittany shut the water off with more force than necessary, almost snapping the knob off the wall, and exited the shower. She finished getting ready and showed up at school with a scowl on her face. It only deepened as she walked into the library to find Kurt already there, smiling smugly.

He'd been wearing the same look for the past week. He hadn't actually said 'I told you so', but the sentiment oozed from his pores.

"Morning," Brittany said curtly, slinging her bag over the back of a wooden chair and sitting down. "Where were we?"

"1850s," Kurt said with a small smirk. "Your girlfriend had just killed a fisherman and his family in Greece."

"Right," Brittany bit out. She angrily flipped through some pages, not absorbing a thing. Why was she putting herself through this? Why involve Kurt? Was she punishing herself? Doing penance? Brittany blew out a breath and shook her head. That wasn't her. She was a mover, someone always racing forward, not some navel-gazing brooder.

She slammed her book shut and tossed it onto the table. "We're done with this. I don't need to know every little detail."

Kurt shrugged and continued perusing the page. "If you say so. I'm sure if I'd fucked a mass murderer, I'd want to ignore it as well."

Brittany gawked at Kurt for a moment before standing up, slamming her hands on the surface of the table and yelling, "What the fuck is wrong with you? Why are you getting pleasure from this?"

Kurt stiffened in his seat. He slowly lifted his head and locked eyes with Brittany, not flinching at all at the fire in her eyes. He calmly set down the book he had been studying and stood as well. "Because," he began icily, allowing all the anger and resentment that had been building inside him to seep into his voice, "my best friend in the world, the only person I've ever loved besides my parents, is dead. She was killed needlessly and pointlessly. And you decided to start sleeping with one of the things that killed her. You had the gall the flounce around here constantly with 'I just got laid!' energy while Mercedes was rotting in the ground." He straightened and sniffed haughtily. "So, yes, I'm glad you finally realized what a mistake you were making, and I'm enjoying seeing you wallow in guilt a little."

"Sorry to disappoint you," Brittany ground out, face red with anger, "but I don't feel guilty at all for sleeping with Santana."

Kurt rolled his eyes, clearly not believing her. "Then why put yourself through this? Why find out every little detail? Why not just…move on?" Kurt chuckled. "It's not like you're in love with…it."

Kurt's words impacted Brittany like a slap, causing her to rock back on her heels, eyes widened in shock and realization.

Seeing her reaction Kurt froze, disgust etched into his face. "You're in love with that…thing? What is wrong with you, Brittany? It's not human!" Kurt rarely lost control, but now he was yelling. "That creature is a demon! An evil, disgusting thing! It has no feelings, no conscience!" He picked up one of the thick books they had been studying and waved it in front of Brittany's face. "You've read what she's done. What more do you need to know?"

Kurt quieted and stared at Brittany imploringly. Brittany stared back unflinchingly, feeling no need to defend herself against Kurt's rant. After a few seconds of silence, Kurt shook his head and gathered his bag. "You disgust me," he declared, with one last glare at Brittany, before stomping out of the room.

Once alone, Brittany slumped back into her chair and heaved a weary sigh. The day had already begun, and she was aching to go on patrol.

~8~

_Satana smiled cruelly as the man beneath her writhed in pain. She surveyed his naked form critically. He was already bruised, broken, and lacerated. Satana had flayed strips of his skin away and cut off a few of his fingers. She was just getting warmed up with this one, only twenty hours in, and already he had screamed himself hoarse. She lifted the knife in her hand to her lips and licked the blood from the blade. She bounced up and down and giggled as she felt the fear-filled blood hit her system. Most vampires never advanced their palates beyond dumb and bestial, but there truly were many subtleties to blood. The taste changed when tinged with pain or fear or lust. Even love had a particular taste, although Satana found that flavor vile and did everything in her power to eradicate that emotion from her victims. _

_She stared down at the man once again, only to find him staring blankly at her, slack-jawed. The bastard was trying to go into shock! She hopped off of him and slapped him hard across the face. Once. Twice. Three times, and suddenly his eyes were widening again in pain and fear. "Don't think that you can escape me so easily, Rene. I know how to draw this out for days, and I know how to keep you alert and aware the entire time." _

_She turned from him and began skipping around the room, kicking the severed heads of Rene's children out of her way. After a few minutes she stopped next to where she had the man strapped down. She leered at him spitefully, then knelt down and picked up the head of Rene's seven-year old daughter. _

_The man had taken the advice of the Bible to heart, had been fruitful. At forty-five he had sixteen children with his wife. It had taken twenty years for Rene to build the family…Satana had destroyed it in twenty hours. The wife was dead. All of the children, save the youngest joined her. _

_Satana brought the head in front of his face, which caused him to whimper pathetically. With one hand braced at the back of the head, Satana used the other to manipulate the child's gore-covered lips. In a high falsetto Satana cried, "Daddy! Why didn't you save me daddy? Didn't you love me enough?" _

_Satana grinned in delight as Rene started sobbing again. She dropped the head and watched it roll off of Rene and land on the ground with a thud. Then she went to the opposite side of the room to where Rene's one surviving child was tied up and whining. She reached down and grabbed the girl by her hair, lifting her off the ground. _

_She carried the child over to her naked, bloodied father and held her above him. She didn't speak for a moment, simply letting Rene stare longingly into the eyes of his one surviving child. Then, with all her considerable strength, she reared back and launched the girl headlong into the nearest wall. The impact sounded like Satana had thrown a bag of oranges. _

_Satana started giggling again, and reached for her castration knife. _

~8~

Santana meandered through one of Sunnydale's many cemeteries, senses alert for signs of demonic activity. It was unusually quiet, however, which was unfortunate for Santana. She had left her apartment hoping for a fight to take her mind off of her situation with Brittany, but now she was once again alone with her thoughts.

Part of her hoped that she would run into Brittany. They didn't even have to talk, Santana just wanted Brittany to see that she still patrolled even when not with Brittany. She wasn't 'playing good,' she was a force for Good in her own right, with her own mission. She was trying to atone for the horrible things she had done.

She was brought out of her thoughts by the sound of someone approaching. Santana's head whipped up, hoping to see Brittany. Disappointed flooded through her when she saw the malicious face of Lauren.

"If it isn't my old friend Satana," Lauren growled. "Out for a bite to eat?"

"I don't do that anymore," Santana spat, glaring at her sire.

Lauren shrugged. "Who really knows what the mysterious Satana has really been up to for the last century?"

Santana looked curiously at Lauren. After a moment her sire continued, "Look where you are, after all. Allied with a Slayer, coincidentally the most powerful Slayer in centuries, who has the Master afraid for the first time since he had a normal nose. You never did like him…"

Lauren trailed off and peered at Santana suspiciously, "Sometimes – not often, but sometimes – I think this has all been one long con, a power play. It seems crazy most of the time…but if there's anyone with the patience and the mind to pull it off it's you."

Even though she hated Lauren, even though she was firmly allied with good… Even though they had spent over a century apart, Santana still felt a surge of satisfaction at the fact that her sire thought so highly of her. That she believed her capable of such an orchestration, that Lauren thought Santana could be a legitimate threat to The Master. Lauren had been, for more than a hundred years, a mixture of sister-and-mother to her. But Santana squashed that feeling and hardened her glare.

"Sorry to disappoint," she said, "but what you see is what you get. I'm good now. I work directly with The Powers That Be. I'm out here right now to kill soulless demons like you."

"Yeah," Lauren said wistfully, "that's what I believe most of the time. Disgusting." Lauren sneered at Santana and took a step towards her. "So…hero…you came out here looking for a fight. How about one?"

Santana hesitated. Lauren was one of two individuals that she was genuinely afraid of. As a human Lauren had already possessed strength that was almost supernatural, and it had been increased twentyfold and matched with incredible speed when she had been turned. This was combined with a mind that had few peers. There were few foes Lauren couldn't defeat outright, and almost none she couldn't outsmart.

But Santana couldn't just let her walk away again. She took a step forward, got into a fighting stance, and said, "Fine."

Santana and Lauren began to circle each other, their eyes locked. Neither wanted to make the first move, both waiting for the other's focus to waver in the slightest.

"Oh goody!" A vibrant voice interrupted them, sending chills through Santana. She turned to see Brittany, standing on a tombstone, glaring down at both of them. "I was in the mood for a little violence."

Without any hesitation Brittany launched off of the tombstone and landed a vicious kick square in Lauren's chest. Lauren was sent stumbling back a good ten feet before she recovered her bearings. When she did, she looked from Brittany to Santana, weighing her chances, and then turned and ran away.

Brittany and Santana watched in surprise as she fled. "Well that was anti-climactic," Brittany said, disappointed. "I really did need to relieve some tension."

She turned to look at Santana for the first time. "Hi," she said softly, almost shyly.

~8~

_There was nothing obviously special about the young woman, nothing that presaged the fact that killing her would radically change the course of Satana's unlife. She was just another street performer, dancing for food or money. She was beautiful, of course, but Satana had seen far more beautiful women in her long life. Hell, Satana was a far more beautiful woman. But something about her caught Satana's eye, something about the way she moved. So Satana stopped, and eyed the girl for over an hour, waiting for her to take a break and go off alone._

_Finally she did, touching the shoulder of the older man who had been standing at her side playing a violin and whispering something to him. The man nodded, smiled lovingly at the young woman, and resumed his playing. The girl moved away from the protection of her companion and the light of the street, and Satana made her move. She crossed the street in a blur and was on the woman when she was halfway down a darkened alley. _

_Her eyes widened in shock as she caught sight of the demonic visage that appeared when she fed. "Diablo!" she cried, terrified. She held up her hands in the form of a cross, hoping to ward Satana off. Satana chuckled caustically, and slapped the girl's hands away. _

"_Si," Satana affirmed, smiling. Then she went in for the kill, and drank her fill of the woman's blood. Once satisfied she let the girl's body fall to the dirty ground of the alley and went on her way. She didn't think of the young woman again, until a few days later when she was screaming in agony as a soul, loathsome to a demon, was being magically forced into her._

_Ironically, the kill that ended the reign of terror of the diabolical Satana had been one of her most innocuous. She had not tortured or tormented the young woman. She had not caused her very much pain at all, and even some pleasure due to the erotic nature of a vampiric bite. Satana had just been hungry, and had fed. The young woman was one of the luckiest of Satana's thousands of victims._

_Her family, extremely powerful in the mystical arts and extremely vengeful, did not see it that way._

~8~

"Hi," Santana replied nervously. She looked Brittany up and down before saying, "You look good."

Brittany smiled wanly before saying, "That's a lie. I haven't slept in a week…I must look terrible."

Santana's voice was laced with concern, and maybe a little hope, as she asked, "You haven't been sleeping? Why?"

Brittany winced and turned away from Santana slightly, crossing her arms defensively.

"C'mon, Britt," Santana pleaded. "At least talk to me. At least tell me what's going on. Why…why don't you come over anymore? What's wrong?"

Brittany sighed heavily. She knew she owed it to Santana to tell her the truth. "A couple of weeks ago," she began in a low voice, "Lauren said something that really got to me. She said…"

Brittany trailed off, swallowing nervously. "She…she taunted me with your past. She said you were the most vicious, the cruelest vampire she had ever met. She said that I was sleeping with a mass murderer."

Brittany's gaze flitted up for a moment to look at Santana, who was looking shocked and upset. "I had never really thought about it before…your past. Not really. Thinking isn't really my strong suit. But…well, after that I started doing research…on you. And since then I can't sleep."

Brittany's words hit Santana like sunlight. She felt gutted. She felt like dying. But she still tried to make Brittany understand…

"That wasn't me, Brittany! Please, you have to believe me, you have to understand. When you're turned, sired, the soul – _me_ – leaves the body. I was gone for every single thing that monster did. We aren't the same!"

Tears brimmed in Brittany's eyes as she stepped closer. There was a look of love, of compassion, on her face. She gazed into Santana's eyes and said softly, "I understand that, Tana, I do. I believe you." She reached out and grasped the vampire's hands in her own, squeezing comfortingly. But then her gaze faltered. She stared down at their linked hands with a pained expression, and murmured, "But these hands…they are the same."

Brittany lifted her gaze again and also lifted their linked hands. "These are the same hands that choked the life out of Felipe de la Cruz in Madrid in 1787, that tortured Maria Lopez and hundreds of others. How can I be okay with these hands on my body?"

"And these lips," she whispered, reaching out and brushing Santana's lower lip with her thumb. She bit her own lip at the sight of Santana leaning into her touch even as Brittany excoriated her. "These are the same lips that have sucked the life out of thousands of people, that grinned as you killed entire families. How can I kiss these lips?"

Brittany abruptly cut contact between them. Both girls looked eviscerated by the action. Brittany's face crumpled as the reality of her words once again struck her. "I'm so confused, Santana," Brittany wailed, crossing her arms in front of her, hugging herself. "I don't want to feel this way, baby. I'm so sorry. I miss you so much, Tana." She reached up and wiped the tears from her eyes. "I think of you all the time. Every second."

"Me too," Santana asserted with a hollow voice, sniffling. Brittany smiled slightly at the sentiment. Santana stared at Brittany voraciously, drinking in every detail of the girl. They stood in uncomfortable silence for a moment before Brittany took a step back and grimaced.

"I'm sorry," she said again, voice filled with anguish. "I'm sorry."

Then she turned and melted into the shadows. Not even Santana's heightened senses could locate a Slayer when she didn't want to be found.

~8~

_When Santana gained awareness for the first time since 1769, she at first didn't remember anything. She just felt tremendous, all-encompassing confusion. She remembered working at the Inn…meeting the mysterious Lauren…and then nothing. Her mind still fuzzy, she stood and wandered aimlessly through the room she was located in. She didn't recognize the room at all. She tried to look at herself in the mirror, but her confusion only doubled when she couldn't see her own reflection. _

_She was backing away from the mirror, shaking her head in consternation, trying to make her eyes work, when the memories of Satana's life hit her. She physically felt pain as the memories hit her, the memory of a hundred thousand murders – beginning with her own father. It was as if every twinge of pain Satana had ever caused was being revisited upon Santana. She collapsed to the ground, unable to take it, curling into a fetal position and sobbing as the images of the demon's victims pounded into her mind. She stayed like that for over a day, a day of endless, excruciating pain. It was only pure coincidence that she survived those first twenty-four hours. If she'd been outside when the curse had hit her, she would have sobbed and sobbed right up to the second the sun hit her. She had no desire or reason to live that day. _

~8~

Later that night - after Santana had wandered blindly home, after she had slumped into her chair and stared brokenly ahead, after Santana had sobbed until she was too exhausted to do so anymore, after she had passed out and began to dream of a world where she wasn't a monster and where Brittany could look at her with only love in her eyes - Jacob returned home.

He already was sporting a frown as he made his way down the stairs to their apartment, but when he noticed Santana asleep in the living room it deepened considerably. Hesitantly he crossed the room until he could see her clearly in the dark. She looked awful. He knew why, of course. She had been losing her mind since her blonde had pulled away from her. Something major must've gone down between them tonight. Thinking of Brittany reminded him of where he had just returned from, and what They had told him.

Jacob sighed and turned away from Santana, unable to face her even asleep. "I'm sorry, kid," he whispered, rubbing a hand over his weary eyes. He grimaced, spared one last glance at his partner, and then retreated into the safety and solitude of his own room.

The End

A/N: Hope you all enjoyed this! Next up is **Prophecy Girl**...


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